


I Will Not be Afraid

by Actual_Revna



Category: The Last Kingdom (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Coccham crew, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Slave Finan
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-31
Updated: 2021-01-26
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:13:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 26,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26203987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Actual_Revna/pseuds/Actual_Revna
Summary: Uhtred's reputation as a Warrior and a Lord has grown and reached far and wide. So far and wide, in fact, that most of it is purely made up or widely exaggerated by the time they reach him again.  He mostly ignored what he heard and never corrected the stories that reached his ears. He now realizes that maybe he should have, because apparently, offerings are being sent his way from those seeking his protection, as you would a King. And one in particular is staring back at him. They mostly sent things you'd rarely find in the markets in the settlements around them. So, he accepted their offerings and used them to fund their protection. Their silver, after all. This was the first time someone sent a person as an offering. A Saxon. And Uhtred did not know what was expected of him.
Comments: 46
Kudos: 53





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> A Little plot bunny and suddenly the draft is all over the place! I had to write something.

He has heard of them before. Godless barbarians. He recalls stories of priests hung on crosses for days before they die. Who would do that to peaceful men of God? But no matter what he hears of the Danes, none will come close to what he hears about one person in particular. The godless war hungry dane, Uhtred Ragnarson. Sometimes he calls himself Uhtred of Bebbanburg, a Saxon name, to rub it in the Saxon’s faces.

He has heard a lot about the lord. He was smart enough to know that half of the stories he heard should be dismissed as pure fiction. But which half? All the stories sounded like fiction to Finan. He was told that the lord himself was taken twice by Danes, each time for several years, and he survived against all odds, and he brought the wrath of his Gods with him the last time. He landed on the shores with vengeance and fury and Danes came flying from nowhere to aid the lord. He did not raise a hand, did not hold a sword. And all those who wronged him died where they stood. And even that was not enough. Before he was taken he had enthralled and corrupted a king’s sister. She was seeking sanctuary from him and praying away all the depravities he had put her through when he stormed the monastery, spared her betrothed’s messenger to further tunt him but even the Abbot was not spared. And again, accounts say that he did not raise a hand. He killed him with malice and a vicious smile. A holy man on holy grounds. Was there no end?

And that’s not the worst of it. He is not simply satisfied by having danes live in the settlement, he acquires hostages as well. First, a nun he kidnapped from Winchester, and later on, a priest he took from within the walls of the monastery in the dead of night, and then the son of the Dane warlord who wronged him the first time. They say he picked the poor bastard because, well, he was Alfred’s bastard. And he was related to the warrior the lord sacrificed to his Gods in his first battle he fought alongside the king. The king who did not know any better at the time.

The king whose kingdom finds itself with that growing turmoil deep within it because he once trusted him. 

And here Finan was. The unwilling tribute offered as a last resort to appease the godless war hungry heathen. Thrown in the midst of the doomed settlement as an offering to the lord. He was one of the few warrior slaves remaining and they needed to appease the Lord Uhtred any way they could. They have been growing restless for a while, and suggestions were being thrown and discarded and fighting was not uncommon in the midst of their settlement, when they heard the horns warning. Bodies. Three of their scouts hanged and displayed on the three entrances. No doubt lord Uhtred’s doing. He told them that these lands were Wessex’s and Saxon and had his protection. And his people were stupid enough to help strike secret deals. various deals at that, with small Danish raiding parties to gain access further inland. And they were many. And no doubt, the Danes they managed to pass on would be assembling with the rest of them and planning all sorts of godless acts of pillaging. He tried to warn them before. To tell them that when they had all the surrounding lands, they'd turn their attention to their settlement. It wouldn’t matter that they made deals with them. They will pillage and plunder and claim all they could. Godless. But, he did not even get to utter more than two words before they silenced him effectively. He did not try to warn them because he cared about them. They could all burn in the deepest pits of Hell for all he cares, but if the Danes turn to them, he was unlucky enough to be theirs. And slaves were the first to be claimed. No fuss and no discussion. And he had been passed from master to master for long enough to be wary of the turbulent transition. 

No matter who will hold the title after the current idiots, it will be hard. And he was tired. He remembers every time he had to rely on instincts with new masters because there were no orders or precedents. How he always did the wrong thing, expecting that they’ll want the same things his previous masters did, and he’d only make things harder on himself. He’d worry himself into endless sleepless days until he can no longer even carry out the simplest tasks. And it would all be in vain. And it would take a lot of time to gain his footing to be able to think on his own again. And those were the times he liked the most. Well, not liked. Not even preferred. But found easiest to bear. Because he would know what was needed from him and what was expected of him. Who liked him and who didn’t. Who he could rely on for protection and who to best steer clear off.

Now, all that was to be tossed away again. They were going to send him to the lord. Send him to his doom. And in moments like this, he’d hate himself the most. Because in moments like this, he’d come to face how much he wants to live. He may have reached a dip or two of despair where he would want it all to end, but when faced with a situation like this, he’d hate how much he does not want everything to end anymore. Because that means that the worry will start again. That fighting for survival will start again. Enemies made and bargains struck and favors granted for what little protection he can secure for himself. Of course, that would be until the lord finds out about it and decides to punish him for it. But out of all the things that managed to survive with him, slyness and deceit were not the worst things. Far from it. If he had to say it out loud, it would be the fear. That was the worst thing. And he cannot fathom why it had not died away like everything else. There was nothing that could be done to him that he had not faced before. Not any more.

_ In God I trust I will not be afraid. What can a man do to me? Nothing  _

Well, except for having a vengeful war hungry godless heathen for a master who was once said to be in control of a dead horseman, and sent him more than once to do his bidding and strike fear into his enemies hearts before he took them. He heard that he did it because their blood will run hotter, more freely when they die afraid. A tribute to the gods. And what sort of man would that be, with gods like that? Even the whole of Mercia and all its riches were not enough to appease him. He only accepted the offer and sat on the throne long enough to show all the Saxon nobles and kings that he could, before he tossed it away. So, if that was not enough for him, who's to say that a tired and weary warrior slave sent unwillingly would be?

  
  


They reached their destination all too quickly, and he could clearly see the gates of Lord Uhtred’s stronghold. He knew that if he was walking then his legs would betray him. They thought he’d run away, so either way, he was thankful he was not dragged behind the horses, but rather sitting on the cart, guarding the rest of the offerings as much as he can with his hands tied together. Chests of treasures and pelts and axe heads and Finan himself and whatever else they could gather. What a fine tribute.

Finan was smart enough to know that this was the end for him. And if he was not killed on sight at least, then it was the beginning of the end.


	2. Chapter Two

“What’s that?” Uhtred was on the ramparts when a small procession came into view. 

“Well, you did hang three men recently.” Sihtric said. He was standing next to him, following the approaching cart and its guards with his eyes. “Offerings, Lord.” He answered with a small hint of sarcasm.

“Well, they’re not due until next month, why send some now?” as much as he did not fully understand why they saw the need for these so called offerings, they had a schedule.

“You seem to forget that you did hang three men recently.” Sihtric was entertained by the situation, apparently.

“Three traitors.” Uhtred corrected.

“They want to make sure that you know they will not be part of that again.”Sihtric supplied with a shrug. He still did not fully understand the Saxons and how they managed their lands, but he was a quick study. And he has been with Uhtred long enough to know that, despite his royal upbringing, no matter how brief, and Beocca’s efforts, neither did Uhtred.

“Again?” Sihtric had talked to the messenger they sent a few days earlier and Uhtred did not get a chance to ask about what was told until now.

“They were not the ones responsible for the latest group of infiltrators, but they were involved. So they acknowledge your message with their offerings.”

“And what are they expecting in return?”

“They’re not stupid enough to ask for protection. Forgiveness, maybe?”

“This is getting out of hand. And Edward will hear of this, sooner or later.” he sighed and leaned further on the railings.

“He knows what to believe and what to dismiss. He knows you're only doing this to keep his peace. " he tapped him on the shoulder and then straightened up again. “And we have something to deal with.”

They had been arranging this for some time now, Uhtred was to take some of his men, Sihtric included of course, to one of their neighboring settlements. It was a Danish settlement, so naturally the Thegn was worried. They had a long standing agreement with Uhtred and he was growing worried with all the unrest around them. He wanted to assure Uhtred that they were not involved in any of it, and Uhtred already knew that. But Halfdane, the Thegn, was adamant in his invitation. 

They were delayed by the arrival of the cart and Uhtred could see that nothing was amiss. Just a small covered cart full of whatever they thought he needed. It didn’t matter what they sent, he’ll always only take what was needed for his men and sell the rest to buy the needed supplies to further secure the area with the silver he gains. He took Sihtric with him and headed for the gates. 

They were opened to admit the cart but its company of guards stayed outside. They were only there to assure it was delivered and they were to head back immediately. Fine, Uhtred thought. He won't be able to welcome them anyway, seeing as Uhtred and his men were leaving before they even closed the gates. His men were ready and assembled already. 

Uhtred gave a quick glance to the cart and ordered one of the present stable hands to store it in the back yard until he returns.

He watched the cart being pulled around the longhouse and he thought nothing of its contents. He turned around to his men, now all on horses, and mounted his own horse. 

"We move!" he announced and they all exited the gates in one file. Hopefully this will be over soon. No more than a few days. He still thought that they did not need to go, but Halfdane was a man of honor and a man of his word, so if he said that he needed reassurance, then Uhtred could not refuse him. 

==

He’s not complaining or anything, but why was he left with the cart? The sun was setting, and still, no one approached the cart after it was pulled to wherever Finan was now. He was still sitting inside, the cover draping over the cart, save from the small tear he saw the imposing gates from earlier. He stayed where he was, thinking that someone will come and get him anytime soon, but no one bothered.

He waited patiently, and still no one came. By the time everybody was asleep for the night and he could hear no one close, he decided that he should at least stretch his legs. His hands were still bound, but thankfully by rope and not iron. He found the head of a nail jutting from the cart’s frame and it was not really sharp, but it will do the trick. He just needed to be silent and patient. And he was nothing if not silent and patient. And tired.

It took longer than expected, but his resolve did not break. He rested once or twice during the time it took for the thick ropes to finally give out and he used his mouth to unravel the rest of the rope. There. His hands were free. Now what?

He jumped from the cart and he realised his mistake right before he reached the ground. His ankle. He forgot. It was shackled, and the other end of the thankfully long chain was secured and bolted to the outside of the cart, right where he jumped from. But it was still there, and the chains clanked as he jumped. He stood in place, unable to move a single muscle, waiting for men to come from every direction, and maybe even some arrows for good measure. He stood where he was for a while before he was able to regain control. No one came. So they were either asleep or far away. He had no idea where he was, but it was somewhere empty. As far as he can see, it was a rarely used place. He saw enough in the dark to make out a few small clusters or heaps around him. A storage area maybe? It did not matter. He needed to hide.

He gathered as much as he could of the chain in his arms so it did not clank and drag on the ground, and rounded the cart to hide behind it. He chose his place carefully. He hid behind the cart, with his back leaning against the building to his side, and on his other side there was nothing but trees. The whole yard was open for him to see if he raised his head a bit. He decided that this place will have to do. No use in alerting anyone to his presence.

He did not know how it happened, or what possessed him to be so foolish and stupid, but he slept. By some miracle he slept. And his stupidity showed itself when the first thing he saw when he opened his eyes, were eyes staring back at him.

Oddly enough, there was no anger in those eyes. Just a detached sort of interest. Like it did not matter who he was or what he was doing there. The same sort of detachment when you follow the clouds and watch how they change shape over time. And the face was at eye level to his, so in his sleep addled mind, Finan thought it was either someone very very short or someone crouching very very low. He jolted in his place, hit his head on a piece of wood from the cart’s frame, held his head in his hands and tried to steady himself and waited for his vision to return to normal again. He felt it pulsing underneath his hand and it was understandably tender to touch. And still, no sound came from whoever was standing over him. They just shuffled a few steps backward and Finan could see whoever it was in full view.

His first assumption proved true. It was a very short person. A boy. He was not alarmed and his face betrayed no emotion. He was still looking at Finan with the same expression and it was now Finan’s turn to take him in. Apparently he was not going to alert the others to his presence. But still, he raised his hands to show them to the boy to assure him that he would do nothing to harm him.

And the more details Finan could see, the more angry and broken he felt. A child. No one knew of a child in the lord’s service so this must be someone new. And by the looks of him, he was most likely a slave, judging by the fact he was Christian. He looked uninterested in the fact that Finan was now openly staring, and he stayed where he was and stared back. He was probably taken from a monastery, judging by what he was wearing and the cross he wore. Poor child. Finan was torn between securing his own hiding place, or telling the boy that he should run. This was no life for a child.

But there was something about the boy. He looked young, but his calm eyes told a different story. And he still did not show any emotion other than the detached interest. Finan felt like he could stay silent as well, and the boy wouldn’t mind.

His hands were still raised and he only kept eye contact with the boy to nod slowly and the boy nodded back, just as silent. He lowered his hands slowly and raised one to touch the top of his head again. It was starting to really hurt now, but it did not matter. He lowered his hand and looked back to the boy. He chose to trust the boy, and he knew already how much this could cost him if it was a mistake.

The boy was not looking at him, but rather at his ankle. At the chain. Finan could see his gaze following the length of the chain all the way to the bolt in the frame of the cart. He did not look confused, so he most likely understood what Finan was. He looked back at Finan and Finan gathered as much courage as he could and spoke for the first time in a long time.

“You should not be here.”

The boy heard him and tilted his head to one side a bit, reached for his small leather pouch and produced a small apple. He took two small steps in Finan’s direction until he stood right before him and extended his hand to offer him the apple.

What in the name of God was happening?

Finan looked at the apple, looked at the boy, and looked back at the apple. He was hungry, but he did not know if the boy had any more food for himself or not. Was it even his apple or did he swipe it from an unsuspecting villager. No, he did not want the boy to go hungry because of him. He did not raise a hand and the boy did not lower his. It lasted for a moment or two until Finan’s stomach protested against his stubbornness. The boy must have heard it, because he squared his shoulders in resolve, took one more step, and put the apple on a barrel that was stored against the wall next to Finan. He gave Finan a look he did not understand, turned around and left. Quickly and silently. Finan followed him with his eyes. He rounded the building and disappeared. It was just him and the apple in the yard now, and no trace of the poor boy. God, he was so small. Finan prayed silently for his safety and took the apple from atop the barrel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback is, as always, appreciated.
> 
> See what I did there? I borrowed Halfdane from my other TLK fic, That is the Way. But he's the Thegn this time.


	3. ChapterThree

Was he simply forgotten or was he being tested? It’s been days since he has been left in the yard. Days since he last saw anyone, save for the little boy. And it broke his heart to see him every time. There was kindness in him. He told him more than once that he can’t be seen with him, but he’d only shrug and offer more food to him. Sometimes it’s another apple, other times it was grapes, once even bread. He was thankful for the boy, because apparently, his fate was to never leave the yard and never see another soul again, and maybe starve to death.

The boy became more comfortable in his presence. He’d spend the mornings with him most days. Apparently, he was not needed in the mornings, and Finan did not know what to make of that. Sometimes he came to sit quietly, ignoring Finan’s presence except when he offered him food. Other times he came to read in the sunlight. And on those days, Finan always prayed that they wouldn't find him. The boy was reading from the holy book! If he was found, he did not know what they’d do to him. He did not even know where he came by the book! But he did not say anything to the boy and neither did the boy say anything to him.

Other days, the boy was bored enough to gather small rocks and stack them above each other in the middle of the yard. He was patient and his hand was steady enough that he balanced the rocks atop each other perfectly every time. He’d stack the rocks, walk a few steps -Finan could see he was counting his steps and their number grew each time- before he’d turn around and crouch. He would have smaller rocks in his hand and he’d throw them at the small tower one by one, trying to hit the tower to topple it. He’d do it a few times before he’d get bored.

It took a few times before Finan accepted the handful of rocks he kept offering him every time, and he joined the boy in trying to topple the small tower. One time in particular, he forgot where he was. It was midday and they were playing their stupid game, when the rock the boy threw landed on uneven ground before it bounced and hit Finan in the face. And the boy laughed. It sounded soft and happy and Finan found himself smiling in return. And it was surprisingly genuine. His chin hurt where the rock hit but he was smiling back. He took the offending stone in his hand and made a show of standing up and raised his hand as if he was going to throw it at the boy. The boy’s giggles grew louder and he stood and ran in a circle at the same time Finan heard footsteps approaching. Finan sat back so quickly his back hit the wall and hid himself. He tried to warn the boy, but his back was to him.

A voice reached Finan’s ears and it was a woman. Finan did not get to see her and thankfully neither did she see him.

“Here you are!” Her voice grew nearer. “Is someone here with you?” There was concern in her voice. Finan hoped it was concern for the boy.

“I was playing with the quiet man.” He stopped running and answered quietly. And Finan broke into cold sweat. He could see the boy and the boy could see him, but the woman could not see him. He caught the boy’s gaze. He tried to convey his message as silently as he could. He was staring wide-eyed at the boy and shook his head desperately. They may hurt the boy if he was not supposed to be here. And they may hurt Finan either way, so he would delay that as much as he could. The boy only looked at him out of the corner of his eye and sagged his shoulders.

“What quiet man?” The woman asked gently, but there was an edge to her voice.

“Nothing, Eadith.” The boy said, with a hint of sadness to his voice.

“Come.” she said with the same gentle voice. “Osferth is looking for you.”

The boy only nodded and made a show of stepping around the small stack of rocks, and when his back was to the woman, he reached into his pouch and took out an apple. He tossed it in Finan’s direction without the woman noticing and left with her.

Finan’s whole body gave out on him. He sagged where he sat and his breath was coming in pants of relief. He wiped his face with his hand, waited until there was no one in the yard, and reached for the apple and took it, if only to hide it so no one could wonder why there was an apple in the yard. His hands were shaking and he was sure he would not be able to eat anything now. He was sure his stomach would not handle anything, even a single apple. He stashed it behind the barrel and leaned back against the wall and as always, prayed for the boy’s safety, and for the first time, his own safety. And by the time he was done, his heart was still trying to beat its way out of his chest.

=

The boy did not return later that day. He’d normally be still with him until much later, and it only made him worry more. There was nothing he could do. So he was also growing more frustrated. What would be done to the boy? He couldn’t bring himself to eat the apple. He wanted to save it in case the boy returned hungry. Or never returned at all. He’d learned the hard way that you never eat all your food if you’re not sure about your next meal. And lately, an apple was what he had for a meal.

The boy thankfully returned the next morning. But he never met his eyes. Not once. And Finan did not get the chance to reassure him. He came, as quiet as always, but he did not play his game, or sit even near Finan. Even with the full length of the chain, Finan would not be able to reach where the boy perched upon one of the big rocks. And he still did not even glance at him.

Finan could not bring himself to talk to the boy that day, no matter how much he wanted to. He had not slept at all the night before, and he was tired. And wound up. That’s what fear did to you, no matter how brief the time was where it gripped your heart. So they both sat quietly, Finan with his eyes stuck to the boy, and the boy doing all he could to ignore him.

Thankfully, no one came for the boy that day. And when the boy was done with his reading, he stood, shuffled the few steps it took to reach Finan’s hiding spot, and reached into his small bag to produce two apples. All without looking at Finan. He offered him the apples with both hands, and Finan took them slowly, if only to reassure the boy. He still could not bring himself to talk to the boy. He did not want to upset him further. But his worries eased. If the boy managed to acquire the apples, then he was not treated too harshly for the day before.

The boy left as quickly as the first time they met, and Finan was again left in the yard with nothing but apples. One in each hand, and the one he stacked behind the barrel the day before.

He needed to dig a new hole to bury the apple cores, and hide the new ones. Someone may wonder why there were so many, if they ever found him, and he knew already that he would not tell them that the boy was helping him. He will repay his kindness, no matter what it costs him.

=

Everything was back to normal the following day. The boy was reading again, but there was none of the tension that was there the day before. But still, the boy did not play that day. The tension only returned when it was time for him to leave. He approached where Finan was, gave him a piece of bread this time, and Finan heard him before he realized it was him. And by the time he raised his head to look at the boy, he had left.

“I’m sorry.”

  
  


=

Two days. That’s how long it took after the woman, Eadith, almost found him for him to be found. He was to be brought to the lord. His hiding place was discovered and he did not know what would be done with him, or the boy. Because as always, it was midday and the boy was with him at the time.


	4. Chapter Four

The boy was writing this time. Finan was silently watching as the boy busied himself with his letters and said nothing. It was a peaceful sort of quiet. The boy occasionally raised his eyes to meet Finan's and Finan always found himself smiling to the boy when it happened. And the boy would smile back and get back to whatever he was writing. 

He gathered enough courage to ask him at last.

“Who are you?” His voice sounded unsure, even to his own ears.

The boy did not stop what he was doing.

“No one.”

Finan found it odd that that was the boy’s answer. He was not even upset as he said it. It only made Finan more curious.

“Where’s your family?” Surely if he was taken from them, he’d want to return to them.

“I’ve been told not to answer that.” Again, the boy was not upset and did not stop writing.

It did not take long for the boy to get bored, so he collected his things in his trusty bag and as always, walked closer to Finan to leave his parting gift. It was an apple that day.

Thankfully, Finan did not move or stand up to meet him, because if he had, he would have been seen.

Footsteps. Angry and hurried footsteps could be heard and Finan only shook his head and urged the boy to stay where he was and crouched further in his hiding spot.

The voice grew nearer and louder. Another woman. A girl.

“This is not funny! I’ve been looking all over for you, where are you?” She must have seen the boy then because her voice was not as loud now. “Oh, here you are! They’re here already and they’re asking for you.” The voice’s owner was still approaching. “What are you doing here anyway?” she seemed to see the apple in his hand and from what Finan could make out, if she only took a few more steps, she’d be able to see him clearly. He closed his eyes and huddled further into the wall to make himself as small as possible. Maybe she would not see him if she reached the boy. 

“Nothing.” The boy replied and even Finan could tell he was lying. He was terrible at it. The girl only gave a huff at his bad attempt.

“Is this about the quiet man, again? You know that no one is allowed here. There is no quiet man.” She said as she took the last step and she stood where she was. Finan looked up at her and the girl was looking at him with wide eyes. She was so quick and swift that it only took a second. She pulled the boy behind her so that she stood between them and produced a dagger so thin from seemingly nowhere and pointed it at Finan.

Finan only raised both his hands and could look at nothing but the gleaming tip of the dagger, so close to his face. Even if he wanted to talk, his breath was only coming in gasps and gulps, he wouldn’t be able to even if he tried. She took the last step and held it to his throat. And she was not shy about using it. It grazed his exposed throat and he did not dare move. He stayed where he was, hands raised and open, with the dagger at his neck.

She talked without moving the dagger. “Fetch Sihtric.” She did not look at the boy, and neither did Finan. Finan only heard the boy’s footsteps as they faded away, sealing his fate.

He tried to speak more than once, but only succeeded once. But it did not matter. He only managed to utter a single “Please..” before she pressed the dagger deeper and he could feel the shallow cut it made. He was shaking so hard he knew that it won’t be the last cut. She was steady, however. And sure. And a Dane.

He could see her now. She was young. Younger than he initially guessed. But she was fierce. And her eyes were calculating.

Well, at least the last thing he’d see was a pretty face. Her youth had not still left her face, and if he ignored the fact that she was a Dane, it made her look innocent. He tried to pray for his own soul in silence and closed his eyes when he heard more footsteps approaching. He knew one of them so well. It was the boy and someone else. The boy stopped a little ways away, but the other person approached steadily.

“Stiorra?” What sort of name was that. This must be Sihtric, the one she told the boy to fetch.

She did not reply and Finan opened his eyes at the same time as the voice’s owner came into view. A Dane. A warrior. He was tall and every bit the warrior Finan had heard the Danes to be. From the unnatural way he kept his hair, to the leather he wore and the weapons he kept. He did not get to take anything else in, for as soon as Sihtric saw him, he unsheathed his weapons. He had a Seax in one hand and a sword in the other. And they were both pointing at Finan. Stiorra only looked at Sihtric, then turned to look at the boy, lowered her weapon and walked away.

“I trust you can handle this. I’m taking him inside.” She said without turning back, and she was out of Finan’s view. She must have taken the boy with her.

It was just Sihtric and Finan now.

“Up.” Sihtric ordered and Finan tried. The Dane was thankfully patient enough to wait for Finan to actually stand. Finan was trapped. The wall to his back, the cart to one side and the barrels to the other. And the chain. And now, a warrior was effectively trapping him. He raised both his hands again, and the Dane lowered his sword and put the Seax where Stiorra’s dagger was just a moment ago.

“Who told you about the boy?” He spoke quietly.

Finan did not reply. What did that even mean? They were the ones who left him here in the first place. What was he supposed to do when the boy approached him?

Sihtric only pressed the seax harder and asked again “Who told you he’d be here?” and again, he did not raise his voice.

“The boy?” Finan asked. “I-” the seax pressed harder and he raised his head upwards to escape the blade’s pressure. He could see nothing but the sky. “No one.” he said.

“What are you doing here? Who are you?”

“I was left here.” he replied as honestly as he could. And he was left there. They left him there. What games were they playing?

“Left?”

Finan did the only thing he could. He raised his right leg and shook his ankle. And thankfully, the chain rattled. “I was left here.” he repeated in frustration and the Dane finally heard it.

He looked down to the source of the noise and just like the boy, he followed the chain until he saw the other end bolted to the cart. He took a couple of steps backwards with the seax still held at level and painting in Finan’s direction.

Finan was able to breath freely now. He leaned back to the wall and did not take his eyes off the other man. 

Sihtric only stood where he was. Looking at him and glancing occasionally at the chain and the cart. It was quiet where they stood until Sihtric swapped his sword with the axe that hung from his belt and charged at Finan. 

Finan only had enough time to raise both his arms to shield himself. Was he about to kill him? He pressed his back to the wall and turned his face to the side and both his arms were shielding it. But no blows came. He only raised his head when he heard the loud and sharp CLANK! And he saw where Sihtric struck. He struck the chain, which was hanging loosely from his shackle. Only a small length of it was dragging from his foot as he tried to move it.

He looked to the other man with confusion that only increased as the man put the axe back to his belt and moved.

“Come. Lord Uhtred should be in the hall by now.”

And Finan could do nothing but follow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback is appreciated.


	5. Chapter Five

Blind panic was a strange thing. You’d find yourself doing all you can to get over it, to think through it, and you’d do all you can to achieve your goal once you realise that there is a way out of it. A way for your mind to pass that tiresome stage. You’d want it hard enough that you’d never even think about what is waiting for you on the other side. And in Finan’s case, it was familiar and hated. Calm. inexplicable calm. Because what was he to do? What can he do to prevent or control anything that was about to happen to him? And the more he thought about it - as much as he can think in his current state- he’d only blame himself more. Because he was the one who decided that waiting was better than gaining his new master’s attention. And the more it was delayed, the harder he found it to voice any request. And the harder it would be on him when he was finally discovered. 

  
  


He doesn’t recall much, other than his loud breathing and the Dane he was following. He did his best to follow his quick pace, and he gave no mind to his surroundings. And he knew that he should at least look around once more before he was led to his fate. He may never see the sky again. He didn’t know what to expect and he was not foolish enough to try to guess. It was never close, and it only served to offer more disappointment.

True to the Dane’s words- Sihtric, was it?- he was led to the Lord’s Hall. It was full of people and excitement. What was it that the girl said? She said “They’re back”. Had the lord been away? Is that why he was in the yard for all that time? Was he forgotten, or were they playing with him? Let’s see how long the Slave will last before he’d go mad? Through the strange calm, he felt a small flicker of anger. Anger that had no place in his life. Anger that could get him killed. Anger that was put out by the overwhelming feeling of self pity. Or was it self hatred? Why was he angry at himself? He had done nothing. And there was nothing he could do. Nothing at all.

The boy and the girl who caught him were not around. But the lord was. He was seated at the head of the table, and there were people all around the table. They were eating and the place was full of the clutters of their spoons and their plates and their cups. And they were all talking in small groups. Too much noise for Finan. But gradually, they all stopped what they were doing as Finan and Sihtric approached the table. All eyes were on Finan and he stood in his tracks. Sihtric noticed and instead of grabbing him like he expected, he only stood where he was prompting him with a quiet “Come on” and continued on. 

They stood to the Lord’s side. With Finan standing a few steps behind Sihtric.

“Lord.” Sihtric greeted.

“Where have you been?” he asked, only giving a quick glance to take Finan in.

“Stiorra found him in the yard.” He said, gesturing at Finan, and there was a hint of anger in his voice.

The Lord did not answer, instead waiting for Sihtric to elaborate. He raised his cup and drank, and looked pointedly at the Dane.

“The one in the back.” Sihtric supplied.

The lord seemed to understand the Dane’s meaning. He lowered his cup, placed it on the table and turned fully to face them. Finan had all his attention.

“Was he alone?” he finally asked, without taking his eyes off of him.

“No, Lord.”

As soon as Sihtric answered, there were footsteps. And if Finan was right in his guess, one of the newcomers was the boy. It was too late now. He understood what the lord was asking. He was asking about the boy. He was right. It was the boy and Stiorra. The boy stopped where Finan could see him out of the corner of his eye, but the girl walked on to the lord and stood behind him. She looked worried. He looked at her silently and she only nodded.

The warlord only looked at a woman seated not so far from him, and now that Finan looked at her, she looked worried. Her eyes jumped from the boy to the warlord and back.

“Eadith, Find out what he’s been doing with him.”

She looked to Finan, and turned her attention to the boy.

The boy answered before she even asked.

“Nothing. He’s quiet. I just give him food when he’s hungry.” The boy said in a quiet voice, but oddly enough, there was no fear there.

“Is that why you’ve been taking all those extra apples?” the woman, Eadith, was standing in front of the boy now. Finan recognized her. She was the one who almost found them the other day.

“He likes them most.” he explained, and again, there was no fear in his voice.

The warlord coughed to get Finan’s attention. Finan’s calm was all gone now. There were too many people. Too many eyes on him and too many decisions.

“How are you in battle?” Lord Uhtred asked him and it was so random that he did not answer right away.

“Lord?” 

“Your scars. Battle?” Finan knew what he was asking. He was littered with scars. He was probably asking about the ones that littered his bare arms, and the one on his shoulder, it peeked from underneath the sleeveless shirt he wore, or the one on his face. None of them were gained in battle. But he will never be able to admit that out loud to anyone.

“Some, Lord.” He cursed himself for how his own voice betrayed him.

The Lord only raised an eyebrow. He raised the cup to drink from it once more, and everyone took it as a sign to do the same. The room was filled with the noises of spoons and plates and murmurs.

“And the rest?” the Lord asked, and he was back to eating now.

“Life at the oar is not kind, lord.” It was more steady this time. But as soon as he said it, he knew that he said something wrong. The few people sitting near them and who could hear him stopped. Lord Uhtred himself stopped what he was doing for a beat or two. Finan shifted in his place and maybe Sihtric thought he was going somewhere, and he extended his arm in front of Finan to prevent him from walking towards the lord -not that Finan was going to-. And finan looked at him and could see the tension drawn on his face. Did he say something wrong? He stayed silent and stood straight once more.

The lord only took a deep breath and the tension in his shoulders eased. He turned to look at Finan and there was no trace of whatever that had just happened on his face.

“Who told you about the boy?”

What was it with everyone asking about the boy? Who was he?

“How did you know he was here?”

Finan could not find what to say. What did they want him to say?

“The boy?” he tried “I…” words escaped him. “I don’t… I”

“Why are you here?” The Lord finally asked, impatient.

Before Finan could find an answer, Sihtric leaned over the Lord and whispered something in his ear. He stood straight once more and Lord Uhtred was looking at him once more. His attention shifted to Finan, and he lowered his eyes to the iron shackle still latched on Finan’s ankle.

“Send him back with the next traders coming from his settlement. When are they due?”

“They should be here by the full moon, Lord.”

“Get him out of my sight.” And there it was. He heard of the Warlord’s anger so many times before. Blind rage they called it. And Finan could see it now. He did not know what caused it, but he desperately wanted to get away from it. He was thankful for the order, but there was a more pressing issue.

He was to be sent back. And he knew for sure that they will kill him themselves this time. They sent him here to die, and he still failed. They’ll surely do it themselves this time. There was no question about it.

Was he relieved that he’d die at their hands and not the Lord Uhtred’s? Maybe.

But he was a coward, and he did not want to die. And slaves like that were always the first to be killed. They were more trouble than they're worth. At least he would be killed quickly, if he was sent back. He heard what the Danes did to those they wanted to kill, and he was thankful he’d be sent back. But if the ships were what awaited him, wouldn’t it be better to die then and there instead of being dragged to what he was sure was to be a brutal and painful end?

On his way out of the hall, he realised that he did not want to return to the settlement. But there was nothing he could do. There never was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback is appreciated


	6. Chapter Six

Night was never his favorite time, but now he hated it. He dreaded every time the sun sank lower and lower until the sky became dark. His stomach would turn every time the orange sky got darker. Because what awaited him was a reminder. It was like the moon was mocking him. Like it was saying “Soon. Soon your fate will be sealed. Soon, it would be the full moon and those who sent you here to die would learn of your failure. Your uselessness.”

A reminder that kept repeating over and over. But it was not needed, because how could he ever forget.

The following days were strange. He was not claimed. He had no place. Not only a slave, but an outcast. He did not know what to do with himself. All he knew was that he was to confine himself to the same yard he had occupied recently every night. Nothing else was required of him. But thankfully, he was not chained to the cart like before. Instead, Sihtric had taken him to the smith to remove his single shackle, and it was replaced by two shackles. One on each ankle and a not so short chain was between them. He’d be able to walk freely, but running would be harder. And everyone would know where he was at all times as the chains clanked and dragged every time he moved. He did not mind it, he wouldn’t have escaped in the first place. He tried before and he failed every time.

He felt so removed from his surroundings. It rankled him, but there was nothing he could do. He saw familiar faces everywhere he went during the day, but he can’t get attached to any of them anyway. He did his best to stay out of the lord’s sight, as he commanded.

And the girl, Stiorra, was never at the same place twice. She was a restless one, always moving and always doing something. Sometimes she’d be sparring with the guards, other times she’d be helping the locals and moving things with them on market day. He once saw her sitting quietly and crafting something. She had something long and white and sharp in her hands, Finan guessed it was some sort of an animal’s bone, and she was looping a long string around it. She looked focused and serene, and no one interrupted her. Certainly not Finan.

Sihtric was a great help, but he could never read him or place him. He was a Dane. That alone should make him wary, but his sharp features were always arranged in a warm manner. It baffled him. But he always made sure that Finan was settled and fed.

As for the boy, he was always accompanied by the woman, Eadith. For the first few days, she never left his side. She was patient with him, and Finan found himself glad for that realization. He saw them more than once from afar, and she was always worried. The boy was always reading or writing or playing alone and Eadith never complained.

Finan realized that he’d miss the boy the most. And that was no one’s fault but him. He shouldn’t have become attached in the first place. Whether he was to be sent back or not, he did not have that luxury. He was angry at himself for that slip, but he continued to watch the boy and Eadith in envy from afar. He wanted what they had. What they all had. What anyone wanted. Freedom. To do as he pleases and with whoever he pleases. Or at the very least, the freedom to feel what he wants and to think what he wants.

His days did not differ much from before, except he was not chained to the cart. He was free to roam in the mornings, and he always strived to stay out of their way. Everyday, he was to go to the kitchen and receive his meal. It made him nervous at first, showing a weakness like that, and depending on their goodwill, but by time he realised that he did not need to be worried. He’d go to the kitchen and his plate would be there, waiting for him. And no one approached him while he ate, or took his food away. Nevertheless, he always ate as fast as he could. He never knew when someone might decide that he has had enough of their hospitality. Danes or not, he still was a slave.

After that, he was free to roam once more, and he’d see more of the Lord’s men out and about, and less of the boy and Eadith. The only one who freely showed hatred for him, strangely enough, was her. He did not do anything to her. Haven’t even spoken to her. But whenever she saw him when she was walking the streets alone, she’d look at him with so much anger. No fear, though. Just anger. She never talked to him. She’d only clasp her cloak tighter in her now white knuckles and turn and leave, throwing him a sideway look on her way. He did not know what he did to anger her so, but he was thankful that she decided to do nothing about it.

And when the sky darkened, and the ever growing moon stared at him silently, he’d retire to the yard. He still slept behind the cart, but someone was kind enough to spread a bedroll there when he was not there early on in his stay.

He had so many questions. But none of them mattered. He was to be sent back.

Close to the ever looming deadline, the boy approached him. Finan was having a hard day and had decided that retreating to the solitude of the yard a little early was best, he heard the boy’s footsteps. And Eadith was not following him, like always. He was alone and he looked resolute.

Finan stood slowly when the boy approached and the boy stood in front of him.

“I did not bring food.” He said apologetically in a small voice.

“That’s fine. I thank you anyway.” Finan said with a small smile. He was curious. The boy did not reply and Finan looked to the entrance once more. “I don’t think you should be here. Where is Eadith?”

“I snuck away.” He said as he sat on the ground, and it felt so much like earlier that Finan found himself sitting back in his usual place.

“You could get into trouble.” He warned.

“I won’t. And neither will she.” The boy answered, and Finan did not know what to make of the second statement.

“You’re scared now.” The boy said, in his unsettling manner.

“I thought I was the quiet man. Not the scared man.” Finan raised a brow and challenged. He did not want to talk about that with the boy. What was to happen will happen, it shouldn’t matter.

“Ever since they found out about you, you’ve been more scared than quiet.” the boy said, and there was a hint of sadness to his voice. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault. You did nothing wrong.” He replied in a flat voice.

“I’ll tell him not to send you away.” The boy said resolutely.

And that, more than anything, brought fear to Finan. He was scared for the boy more than he was of his own fate. It did not take much to get who the boy meant. And he did not want to put the boy in danger. There was no way the boy could go to Lord Uhtred himself and ask for something like that. Lord Uhtred may kill Finan and the boy just to prove a point. A point that did not need to be proved. Finan knew and understood on his own, thank you very much.

“No!” He found himself saying to the boy. “Don’t. There’s no need.” Perhaps the boy was naive enough to not understand what was at stake. “Please, don’t.” He looked pointedly at the boy and waited until the boy nodded silently. With just a small hint of sadness on his face.

  
  


He stayed a while longer, and they were both silent. And neither one minded the silence. At least he had company. They stayed there long enough for Eadith to find them. As soon as she saw them she stood in her tracks. She looked at the boy with exasperation.

“You can’t keep doing that!” she reproached. “I thought you understood now how dangerous it was to roam alone like that. You need to tell me if you want to go somewhere.”

“I’m not alone.” The boy said. “And Sihtric told me that I was safe here, as long as I did not wander into the woods. And I haven’t” she said with a small shrug. Like he did nothing wrong. Finan knew that the boy could be in serious trouble for sneaking away like that.

“It was my fault.” He found himself saying before he had a chance to think this through. He can take whatever they threw at him, but the boy was young. He stood and rounded the cart so she could see him. He cursed his own stupidity for exposing himself like that. He thought he was safe where he was. Further proof of his naivety. “I-”

“No it’s not.” she interrupted him, and if he was not sure if she was angry at him or not before, he was now. Gone was the tender way she spoke to the boy. She was fierce. “Athelstan, you have to understand that if it was someone else and not him, you could have been in danger.”

Athelstan. Finan was right in his assumptions. The boy looked to be noble. And given his name, he most likely was. What was he doing in a place like this? What purpose did the warlord have in keeping him? That would explain how everyone was worried about him. He must be an important asset. Not a slave, then. Maybe a hostage? Who was stupid enough to give someone to Lord Uhtred as a hostage? He found himself pitying the boy and those he was taken from. It would also explain why the boy did not want to tell him about his family. Or was he forbidden? “I’ve been told not to answer that.” was his answer. Even a little boy like that was not spared their cruelty. They’ve taken who he was away from him.

“I came to see him, and I know you wouldn’t approve.” the boy’s voice got Finan’s attention once more.

“Approve or not, I still need to be aware of your whereabouts! I thought Lord Uhtred made it clear when he spoke with you.” she was frustrated, and Finan could see it. A dangerous thing to be near when you’re a slave. He did not want to think how that conversation went.

It was not quite sunset yet, so he thought he could leave them be to their argument. He was not a part of it, and she dismissed him when he tried to take responsibility. He did not call for them as he started to leave. They were still talking, but he paid them no mind. He could do nothing about the chains that clanked and rattled with each step he took.

He was closer to the entryway than them when he heard a loud creak. He looked back to see what it was, and saw that it was coming from one of the massive heaps that littered the yard. Most of them were covered, the one in question included, so he did not know what it was. But his chains must have caught on it. It was a massive stack and apparently, it was off balance. A large and tall object was about to topple and fall from the top of the stack and the boy, Athelstan, was standing closest to it. Eadith and Athelstan were busy arguing and neither could see it. 

He tried to get their attention, but he found it hard to speak at the moment. The day took its toll on him. He tried to run as fast as he could towards the boy, and almost fell because of his chains, but he got there just in time to push him out of the falling object’s way. Eadith gave a small scream and gathered the boy in her arms as soon as she realized what happened.

Finan, on the other hand, was not as quick as her. He managed to push the boy away, but what turned out to be a bundle of sheathed and unsheathed swords tied together, managed to fall on him. The tip of an unsheathed sword found its way into his arm, and cut him deeper as it was dragged down in its fall.

There was a lot of blood and the cut itself was long and deep. From just beneath his shoulder to his elbow. He fell to the ground and Eadith ran towards him. He was pressing on the cut with his other arm, and she tried to do the same, but there was a lot of blood. She hastily ripped at her dress’ skirt and gathered enough fabric to try to staunch the wound. She looked to the boy and urged him “He’ll be fine, get someone.”

Finan saw the boy leave and he felt the pressure on his arm. He did not look at Eadith. Instead he looked to the sky. And the moon that peeked from the sky even before the sun was fully down. To mock him. Only two days remaining, and not only will he be sent back as a failure. With a wound like that, he’d be of no use to anyone in the foreseeable future. It was not a fatal wound, and he tried to imagine the different ways the sword could have pierced him.

But throughout all his musings, Eadith did not let go. She was speaking softly now, but he was too far gone to make out what she said. Her hands were steady on his arm and her voice was steady in his ears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think.
> 
> This thing is a sort of freeform project, so feel free to let me know what you want to see next!


	7. Chapter Seven

Voices. That was the first thing he noticed. Well. No. The first thing he noticed was that he was not in the yard. It certainly did not smell like the yard. And if he was to judge by how soft the surface he was lying on was, then he’d say with certainty that it was not the yard. So, in his panic and need to make things right, he wanted to be sure that it was not night time. After all, he was to confine himself in the yard at night. The only thing that was asked of him, and he’d be damned if he failed at even that.

So he opened his eyes and thankfully, it was not. Though it was so close to it he might want to head there immediately. Just as soon as the room stopped spinning, he told himself. He decided to close his eyes again just for a moment.

It turned out to be much longer than the intended ‘moment’. He awoke slowly, but found his eyes adamant on staying shut. And it was dimmer than before. That’s when he noticed the voices. As hushed as they were, there was only the crackling of a fire nearby, and that was not enough to drown their hushed conversation. He recognised the woman’s but had not heard the man’s before. Well, it shouldn't matter. He’d be gone in a day now, why should he bother with recognizing their voice?

“You know you don’t have to do this, right?” the man sounded bored, and maybe concerned. It was definitely concern for the woman, if there was any, as the only other occupant in the room was Finan himself.

“I know.” Came Eadith’s clipped reply. “I’ll just stay a bit longer.” And Finan was surprised at the softness in her voice, so used to her hatred and anger.

“Come on, Eadith. You don't need to be so worried. You don’t even know him.” Came the bored man’s reply. But oddly enough, the concern was still there.

“None of us do, Osferth.” she sounded distracted. “It’s not that I’m worried about him.It’s just-” she seemed to cut herself short.

“Nothing happened.” Osferth said, and it sounded like this was not the first time they had this conversation. 

“Anything could have happened. And if something happened to Athelstan, I-”

“Nothing happened.” he repeated himself.

“I know, but..” And she sounded like she was so far away in thought, she may have not realised that she stopped talking.

“You do know that you do not have to worry about that either, right?” He did not sound so bored now. Just concern and reassurance.

“I know what it’s like to lose favor. Never again.” She said with resolve.

“This has nothing to do with the boy.” Osferth argued. It was hard for Finan to keep track of the conversation. There was so much he did not know, but there was so much he did not need to know. All he needed now was more sleep. His head was swimming again and he felt himself slipping. But not before he heard her reply.

“It has everything to do with the boy! He’s why I’m here! He’s why Lord Uhtred agreed that I accompany you! I almost lost Aelfwyn, I will not lose Athelstan!” she said.

“You take things too far, Eadith. You worry too much. This is not like the court, and you know that!”

“Weren’t you the one who told me that they’d blame me for her death either way?” she said in a challenge, but she didn't sound as serious as before.

“Well, I did not tell you to drink what was essentially poison, just in case!”. The man replied in a tone too light for the conversation they were having.

  
  


Dear God, they were joking. About death and poison. Finan’s curiosity peaked, but he drifted once more before he could hear more.

=

The next time he was awake, he was not as dizzy. He felt better. He opened his eyes slowly and his heart skipped a beat or two at the darkness that greeted him from the window. He made to stand and leave and only managed to sit upright before his eyes caught movement. Sihtric was sitting on a chair by the doorway, silently polishing a sword. Finan did not think he noticed him. But oddly enough, he found the steady muted sound of the rag on the sword reassuring.

He sat there a while to calm himself. Surely if Sihtric was there, he would not earn more punishment for not being in the yard. He sat where he was a little while, trying to muster his courage to speak. He did not want to, but he needed to know.

“Am I to be punished?” his voice sounded hoarse, but he continued, “Before I am sent back?” He clarified. And apparently, Sihtric already knew he was awake. He did not stop what he was doing, did not even change his pace or look up.

“What makes you say that?” he asked, distracted.

And what did he mean by that, surely he did not mean the punishment. That was out of the question, he deserved it. Were they not sending him back?

“Say what?” Was that hope he heard in his own voice? That was strange. And dangerous.

“That you’ll be punished.” Sihtric said.

Dread. They were sending him back either way. See? Dangerous. He did not reply straight away, and Sihtric stopped what he was doing and turned to look at Finan. It was unnerving. His sharp eyes were steady. He waited patiently, something Finan was always thankful for.

It did not take too long and Finan found his voice again.

“It was- It was my chains.” Damn his voice for betraying him. He found himself looking down. His shirt was covered in blood on one side, and his arm was wrapped. He forgot all about his wound, but now that his blood ran cold, he felt it throbbing with every beat. His whole arm felt hot.

“And who put the chains there?” Sihtric asked, conversationally. Surely he did not mean to shift the blame to himself! This was not how that worked. Not in Finan’s experience at least. 

“Something could have happened to the boy.” He tried to reason with the man. Was he new to all this? The Danes have slaves, he knew that. He knew those slaves. Was one of them. Surely this was a game. He can’t lose. Will Sihtric make him beg for punishment? Is that what he wanted to see? 

“Something happened to you instead.” Sihtric said. And Finan did not understand what he wanted. And it made him dangerous. It shouldn’t matter, he was to be sent back anyway, but Finan was disappointed. He thought Sihtric was not cruel. How wrong he was. And an idiot. Sihtric was a Dane. How could he have possibly been something else!

“Was he hurt?” He should at least know the extent of the damage if he was to be punished for it.

“You pushed him out of the way”

He nodded to himself and looked back up to the other man. “I am ready to receive my punishment.” And oddly enough, his voice was steady this time.

Sihtric stodd, and Finan pushed against the bed to stand as well. His vision blurred for a second and he steadied himself on the wall.

“There will be no punishment.” Sihtric said. He turned to leave and when he reached the doorway he spoke without turning back “And this is where you sleep now.” and he continued on.

=

Finan did not sleep that night. He was worried that if he did, then this will all turn out to be a dream. The pain in his arm was too real for the incident to be a dream, so that left his conversation with Sihtric. That had to be the dream. And if he slept only to wake and find him there again? Only this time he’d be there to punish him? Or maybe the lord Uhtred himself will be there to greet him once he wakes? No. He will not take that chance. Let it be a dream, he won’t sleep then. He has gone longer without sleep before. It shouldn’t be too hard.

He stayed in his ‘room’ for the day, and he was surprised to hear the commotion outside. Was it market day? He did not dare leave, but he heard distant voices. Apparently, the traders were there. The ones he will be sent back with. He cursed himself for forgetting. Their presence unnerved him. He paced his room all day, and still, no one came for him. 

The day went on, and they were still there. He could hear them just outside his window. He heard Lord Uhtred early on in the day, and he spoke with them briefly about their goods and left. By the time they were making ready to leave, he tried to prepare himself. Apparently, he was not to be punished. There was no time for that now. But no one said anything about sending him back. Lord Uhtred wanted him out of Coocham, and the traders were already here.

He heard footsteps approaching the door he did not dare touch the whole day, and it opened with ease. Huh. it wasn’t locked. Finan did not know what to make of that information. He made to head for the door to leave with whoever came to fetch him, only to stop where he was at the face that greeted him. It was Lord Uhtred.

He entered silently, looked at Finan steadily, and only sat at the chair Sihtric had occupied when he was here.

Now what? He was the one who did not wish to be in his presence, so what was Finan to do when he just came in and sat there?

“Lord.” he greeted. He fidgeted silently, debating on what to do, when voices from outside reached him. Sihtric was speaking with the traders.

“You made a mistake. Your people made a mistake.” he said in a menacing tone. A tone Finan did not associate with Sihtric after all the conversations they had. It sounded unnerving. It sounded like what he expected the Dane Second to the Warlord Uhtred to sound. “No offerings were required from you. Nothing was asked of you, and yet, you sent whatever you could spare in a stupid attempt to placate Lord Uhtred after you went against the King’s law. Tell your masters, this is Saxon land. King Edward’s Lands. Not Daneland.” Finan forgot all about the other occupant in the room, and listened to Dane with bated breath. “One more misstep, one more deal, and you will wish we had given you to the king’s army.”

Finan heard no reply and there was only silence for a moment.

“And next time you send the Lord Uhtred something, should we require that, ask first. He did not appreciate your offerings, and good thing they were not needed.” He gave them no chance to reply. Finan heard his retreating footsteps and his mouth went dry. He did not dare turn around to meet the Lord. What did that mean? He knew that he did not approve of his presence, but he was also not sending him back with the traders as he ordered, so what?

Eventually, he heard the traders murmur between themselves as they gathered their things and left. So, he stays. He turned and Lord Uhtred was still there, sitting on the only chair and looking at Finan. They stayed there, watching each other, before the pressure got to be too much for Finan and he looked down. He was still wearing the bloodied shirt and his arm was still throbbing, but it did not feel like it was on fire anymore. He stayed where he was, not knowing what to expect anymore. They have left already, and Sihtric had told them that Lord Uhtred did not appreciate their gift. Namely, Finan. He was not stupid. And he knew that already before Sihtric said it. So why was he still there? Was the Lord going to kill him? He expected as much, but he had survived so far. It only served to disappoint him more. His fate was sealed the moment they decided to send him here.

“You were a ship slave?” Lord Uhtred asked, finally.

“Yes, Lord.” he could do nothing but answer. He did not know where this was going but it did not matter.

“Why are you not still on a ship?” 

“They set a term for it. It was punishment. I survived.” He answered in a dull note. He did not care to remember what happened and lead to the worst years he ever lived.

“What will they do to you if you return?” Finan could not get a read on him. He did not know what he was thinking. What answer he expected to hear. He only hoped that if he answered truthfully, he’d get a swift death, instead of what he knew awaited him if he was returned.

“It’s the time of year again, Lord. Ships will be shoring soon, looking to refresh their crew in a few days’ time, Lord.” They threatened him of this more than once, and he knew enough to know that there will come a time when they will deliver on that threat. “I was only spared a more permanent fate because I was getting old. No shipmaster will want a slave who would die on them in the first storm. But, they’ll want to get rid of me now. And the slave market will be wanting, Lord.” he said without emotion. How are you supposed to feel when discussing your own death? 

He had nothing else to say, so he waited.

Lord Uhtred did not address anything he just said. He only stood, waited until Finan was looking at him and said “You’ll stay. You protect the boy now. And you’ll teach him how to fight.” he said, and just like Sihtric, he went for the door and stopped to say “And Eadith. You protect her as well.” without looking back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback is appreciated.


	8. Chapter Eight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really really wanted the chapter to be longer than this, but I've been getting these headaches a lot, and turns out I need glasses. So I decided to post what I already had, instead of waiting for the couple of days it would take to get it done.
> 
> I know it's short and nothing much happens, but here's some exposition and confusion for you, Dear readers. xoxo

And so, it began. A new life. A new Lord to serve. A new goal. Protect the boy. Protect Eadith. Teach the boy how to fight.

Learn all you can about the goings-on of the estate, so as not to be surprised. Learn who to trust, and who to watch out for. And hopefully he may survive.

He did not know if Lord Uhtred’s desire for Finan to be out of sight was still standing or not, but he decided to heed it all the same. He was thankful that his current task was doing all the work in that regard. The boy did not need Finan’s presence in the Lord’s hall. There were plenty of fighters there to protect him should something happen, no need for Finan’s presence.

His days did not differ that much from before. They gave him the room he occupied during his recovery. It was nothing much, just a bed and a window really, but it was an improvement from the yard. And it was near the longhouse as well, so it was not that bad.

He spent the first day just watching. It was not a task really, he had already been spending most of his time with the boy, Athelstan, and he enjoyed the company already. He still did not know how he would approach teaching him, but Lord Uhtred did not object to the delay. It was more of a long term thing, so there was no rush.

Sihtric was as helpful as ever. He was always in Lord Uhtred’s company, so Finan saw little of him during the day, but he’d seek Finan out and make sure that he was settled. He took him to the Smith to supply him with what was needed. Nothing much really, by any standards, but Finan was glad for the clearly old sword and the dented armor he received. He knew it was not a permanent arrangement, but he had missed it all the same. Had given up on the idea that he might ever hold the steel in his hands again. It was either death or the ships for him, so he was more happy than Sihtric predicted.

The boy himself welcomed the new arrangements with a smile and a shrug. Nothing much changed of how his days went on. Except that now, he did not have to seek Finan. Finan followed him everywhere, and Eadith was always not too far. And Finan was glad for the boy’s company. They still did not talk much, but that never bothered them.

Eadith, on the other hand, was very upset with the new arrangement. She glared and huffed whenever she went to talk with Athelstan in Finan’s presence. Athelstan did not complain, but he would need to deal with whatever she had against him soon. He still did not know what brought her there, and the conversation he overheard did not settle well with him.

It was late one night when he found her sitting alone on a secluded bench by the alehouse’s back. She was drinking ale and lost in thought. Finan wasn’t sure about the outcome of what he was about to do, but it had the potential of making his life there easier. He steeled himself and approached her.

He coughed and she looked at him from the corner of her eyes. So much disdain. And a little dazed.

“What?” she asked bitingly. “He’s not here. You can go ahead and leave already.”

“I came to talk to you.” he said hopefully, and it sounded like a question.

“That’s not what you’re here for.” she said and then shook her head and started again. “That’s not what I meant.” she was looking at the cup in her hand.

“Believe me, I don’t know what I’m here for, either.” He said, and was surprised that he said that at all.

She looked at him. Really looked at him and there was sorrow in her eyes. She stayed like that for a while before pouring a cup from the jug in front of her and putting it on the further end of the table. He looked at her and she gave him a small nod.

“I don’t believe we’ve been introduced.” she said when he sat. “I’m Eadith.”

“Finan, Lady.” he said and she snorted and then laughed. And as nice as it sounded to his ears, there was something broken there, and she looked beautiful in the moonlight. None of her hatred or anger were there. He knew that it was the ale that mellowed her like that and he was thankful, but worried. He’d make sure she returned to her quarters safely. He tried to convince himself that he was only worried because her safety was his concern now, and nothing else.

“Oh, no.” she said in a singsong like tone. “Not a lady.” and she sobered up slightly. It was awkward and he did not dare ask. The smile fell slowly from her face and she looked at him from the corner of her eyes again.

“I hear you’re the boy’s guard now.” She changed the subject. He knew she already knew, but he gave her no indication that he knew what she was doing.

“Yes, Lady. and yours.” he said with a small tilt of the head.

“I don’t need a guard.” she said dismissively.

“I can’t do anything about that.” 

“He knows I don’t need one, but still he insists.” She was clearly frustrated.

They stayed silent for a while and he decided to say it out right.

“I heard you”

“Hmm?”

“You were talking to someone. He said you stayed with me the whole time.”

“Oh.” she sat straight and did not look at him.

“Thank you.” he said when it was clear she would not say anything. “I know that you do not like the idea of me being here, but I just wanted you to know that I do not wish anything to befall you or the boy. Lord Uhtred is the one who decided what my role here is. I do not know why. I don’t know what I’m protecting him from. I don’t even know who he is. And none of that matters. That is the order I’ve been given, and that is what I’ll do. So if there is anything you can do to make it easier for the both of us, I will be very grateful. There is not much I can do in return, but you will have my gratitude” he hated that he had to say all that. He was not happy with talking in general, but this was survival. He had to reach an agreement with her. He did not know what her role was exactly, but she was a big part of his task.

She looked at him, studying him, and there was a hint of understanding in the way she looked at him. She looked to be lost in thought before she shook her head and looked the other side.

”And a favor to call upon whenever you need one.” he was really desperate now.

“A favor? From you? What could I possibly want from you?”

“All I’m saying is that I’ll owe you. As much as someone like me can owe.” he said and he knew how foolish it was, but it was his only option. 

=

Eadith became easier to deal with after their strange conversation. Even by his own standards the conversation was strange. He excused himself and stayed far enough away to watch and make sure she returned safely afterwards. She only stayed a short while. And he only watched from afar because she would not appreciate his company. But a task was a task. So he stayed away and kept an eye on her.

She did not stare daggers at him anymore. She still did not tolerate him, but he did not need that. He only needed her to accept his presence, because he will be there, whether any of them wanted that or now. An order was an order.

=

Sihtric approached him a few days later, with the blunt swords and the wooden staffs Finan requested for his task. They took so long because they were made shorter than the regular ones. The boy was small for his age, which was already too young to learn fighting, but orders were orders.

It frustrated Finan that he did not know who he was or what they were up against, but it was not his place to ask.

He kept telling himself that everyday until he finally broke and asked. He was thankful it was Sihtric.

“I have a question.” Sihtric broke the silence, and it unsettled Finan. Sihtric was always sure and silent and that was what he liked most about his company. He only said what needed to be said. He did not make conversation. And Finan did not like conversation.

Finan stopped what he was doing and looked at Sihtric expectantly.

“When you were in the yard, with the cart, why did you not alert anyone to your presence? It was days before you were found?”

“There was no one.”

“Athelstan was there. And as I’ve heard, you and him spent most of that time together.” he said, as steady and calm as ever, and as always, Finan did not know what he wanted. He thought they were past that.

“I didn’t want him to get into trouble.” he replied hesitantly. Finan did not like where the conversation was going. Someone may still fault him for it, and he thought that it was over..“The girl, Stiorra, Sh- I heard her say no one was allowed there.” he stumbled over the name, but he only heard it once and it was foreign.

“And why would you assume the boy would get into trouble? You were brought there.” Sihtric asked, and his patience was not such a comfort this time. It was the patience of predators laying traps, and Finan was the prey. He understood now why this man was the head of the household guard. He was sharp. And strategic. And he must be good in battle, if his scars were any proof of his experience. And he was too young for this role. Maybe that sort of thing did not matter that much to the Danes.

“Well, Slaves often do.” Finan said. “There doesn't have to be a reason, but there was this time.”

“That explains you, not him.”

“What?” Finan did not know what he meant, and he was tired of trying to make sense of Coccham and its people. He was wrong most of the time.

“He’s not a slave.” Sihtric said matter-of-factly. And Finan knew that if it was his old masters, he’d be punished for implying that a free person was a slave, but strangely enough, Sihtric did not look concerned. which , in turn, made Finan more concerned.

“I thought… But he’s a Christian?”

“So are many others here” Sihtric said with a small shrug that Finan was sure he did not intend to show.

“Who is he?” he finally asked.

“He is lord Uhtred’s charge.” 

“You mean hostage?”

“Charge.” Sihtric repeated, and his tone made it clear that this conversation was over. “His. to raise and to protect.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback is appreciated xx


	9. Chapter Nine

A few days have gone by without incidence. Time passes as time passes. Nothing much to say or do about it. This was his life now.. Finan was doing his best to fulfill his task and to avoid the warlord. He was so careful about the latter that he no longer considered it a task. It was just how he spent his day. He did not think about how he avoided the market on Sundays when the lord was, strangely enough, always there, speaking with the traders. Or how he was not anywhere near the gates or the yard when the scouts returned and were greeted by him to deliver their news. Finan did what any good slave would do. He tailored his days around two facts and two facts only. He was to protect the boy and teach him, and he was to stay away from the warlord. And if he came to care for the boy, or forget about Lord Uhtred altogether, then it was his fault and his fault only.

But time passed. And he was surprised that life was easier than what he expected. Or what he experienced at the hands of his previous masters. He wished they could see him now. Walking freely towards the kitchen because he forgot to go there earlier to get his breakfast and that there was always food laid around for anyone in the household to take. And, whether he believed it or not, he was told that the list entailed him now.

He decided to grab something for Athelstan as well, just in case he was hungry. He returned to the boy with the roll of bread for himself and an apple for him, and they both ate while they played with the stones like they did so long ago. Or rather Finan watched him play silently. He looked to be upset about something, and Finan decided to give him time instead of ask.

“When are you going to teach me?” the boy broke the silence when he ran out of stones and Finan silently offered the rest of his.

“Well, the smith is done with your blunt sword.” he replied easily.

“I know that. I saw them.”

“Do you want to learn how to fight?” Finan asked, because any other boy his age would be jumping at the opportunity to hold a sword or a staff, but Athelstan just saw that they were there and did nothing.

“I have to.” he answered quietly, but with conviction.

“Why is that?” Finan asked, and he knew before he said it that the boy would not answer. He did not exactly know who he was, but he was starting to get a sense of what to ask and what not to ask him. And he also came to the conclusion that it was all tied to who he is, or rather who his family was. So, when he got no answer, he did not push.

“Have you ever held a sword before?” He tried to change the subject.

The boy hesitated for a bit, and there was a sour expression on his face. “Once. “ he said defiantly. “Sihtric’s Seax.”

“Oh. was he teaching you how to use it?” Finan’s interest peaked. As far as he saw, Sihtric never parted with his seax.

“No. he gave it to me and told me to run for the trees when the fighting starts.” He was looking at the stones in his hand now.

“What fighting?” was that when they took the boy from his family?

“We were being chased. They were looking for us and we tried to outrun them, but we couldn’t” the boy said matter of factly

“Who?” 

“The Mercian Guard.” 

So Lord Uhtred took the boy from Mercia. Was that before they gave him the kingdom or after his brief reign as the Lord of Mercia?

“And how did you manage to hide during the fight?” Finan asked. “Did you get to use the seax?”

“There was no fight.” The boy gave a small shrug, and he was still looking at the stones.

“And why is that?” Finan was glad of it, but there was something missing. Why were they hiding from the Mercian Guard? Did they take him from Mercia? Why arm him if they were trying to take him? Why arm him against his people if they were trying to take him back to Mercia? And where was Lord Uhtred during all that?

  
  


“Eadith saved us.”

“Eadith? How?” he was more surprised than curious now. What did she have to do with all of that? Did the boy know her before they took him? Is that why she was with him? What was it that the man told her when Finan was injured? “This is not like the court.”? What was her part in all of that?

“She knew the man chasing us. He was her brother.”

Well, if she knew the man who led the Mercian Guard on a manhunt, then that was what the man meant. She was Mercian.

“So she talked him down and you escaped?”

“ She turned his men against him and they chased him instead when he ran away.”. That was definitely not what he expected the boy to say. But he knew that he had asked the boy too much and he could see that it was upsetting him.

“And the weapon?” 

“I wanted to keep it. But Sihtric said that I would be better off with my books. And that I will not need it again that there will be time for that later.” He agreed with Sihtric, and not for the first time. But Athelstan did not agree, if his expression was anything to go by. 

“Do you want to learn?”

“I should be able to fight. I… - I don’t want to be taken again.”

Finan understood the boy’s desire to be able to protect himself, but he didn't tell him that no amount of lessons would have prevented Lord Uhtred from taking him. Let them say whatever they wanted, Finan knew that the boy did not belong there. Charge or hostage, it was the same when it came to someone like Lord Uhtred.

And then there was Eadith. What was her role in all of this? Did she betray the boy’s family and that is why they were both there? Or was she going to betray Lord Uhtred to the boy’s family? Something did not add up, and he knew there was more to her.

> _“I know what it’s like to lose favor. Never again.” That is what she said. So it was most likely that she betrayed the boy’s family._

And that begs the question, where did Finan’s loyalties lie? To the boy or to Lord Uhtred? Was he to be wary of her, or to just accept her presence like he accepted his own situation as something he can do nothing about? Because if she betrayed the boy’s family, it was nothing against Lord Uhtred, his master. So she did nothing wrong. But if she had, then she betrayed the boy as well. And it should not be a problem, except that Finan was angry on the boy’s behalf. And he knew it would not lead him anywhere, and it would only make his life there harder and nothing more.

* * *

He forgot about the conversation and his thoughts about Eadith soon after. There was nothing he could do and nothing he could say. And he was also certain that he was missing something. Maybe it was something the boy did not know. But there was no one to ask. It was not his place. And if they did not want him to know, and he was caught asking questions, then that would be a problem for him.

And anyway, most of the time she was there the boy was also there, and he did not think it was appropriate to have this conversation in his presence. And he also did not know if she’d welcome any questions. She may have stopped glaring at him, but that did not change the fact that she only tolerated his presence, nothing more. And he was stupid enough to grant her the upper hand. Even more than what his situation and status suggested. She was free, he was a slave. And he owed her a favor.

===

It felt so much like the first time he saw her there. She was sitting at the same table one night, and there was no one else there. Most of the household guards were scouting for Lord Uhtred, and Sihtric was with him. So the usual ruckus was not there as well.

She saw him standing not so far away, and like the first time, she silently poured him a cup and slid it across the table.

He approached her and sat and drank, without breaking the silence.

“How is it going with Athelstan?” she asked after a long while.

“He’s too young to even hold a staff.” he said with a small amount of anger. There was no one else to voice his concerns to. He was ordered, but he did not agree with the order. But Eadith was not Lord Uhtred or Sihtric, he knew that she would only tell on him if she wanted to hurt him. And right now, she did not. They had an agreement. If there was something she wanted from him, she knew that he would not refuse. He owed her. And he knew that she knows that.

“It doesn’t matter. The boy needs to learn. Too many people are looking for him. Now more than ever.” she said with the same air of mystery that always surrounded that topic. And he did not disagree, he just wished his charge was older, that’s all.

===

He came to enjoy his conversations with Eadith as he enjoyed his conversations with Sihtric. It was another night, but the same table.

“Why are you here?” he asked her when the jug was empty and there was only one cup of ale, and they were passing it back and forth while watching the empty dark sky. It was a new moon, and it was just so dark and they were both too lazy to fetch a torch when the tables around them emptied as the night grew darker. He knew that normally, you wouldn’t appreciate such darkness. But he found himself gazing at the vast dark sky and thinking back on how not so long ago, his stomach would turn every time he saw the moon rise..

“I ran away.” she said and gulped down most of what remained in the cup. “I was in Mercia. Long before it was his.”

“And this is what you ran to?” he asked incredulously. Because he still remembers what he heard about the dane warlord and his men. He expected much worse when he was sent to him, but it was not what he expected only because they found use for him and they thought the boy needed protection. But Lord Uhtred’s reputation had to come from somewhere. Just because Finan did not see it, it did not mean that it wasn’t true. What use did they have for someone like her? And what did she have to do to guarantee her place and her safety? “You chose this?”

“I was a dead king’s mistress. The sister of a dead king’s favorite and his murderer. And a traitor in every meaning of the word. I knew there was no place for me there. In Mercia or Winchester” she said, resigned. 

So, did that mean she did not betray her brother, but rather he betrayed his king? Or was she lying? Was she only looking out for herself? Did she only do it because she thought she was better off with Lord Uhtred? No, that did not make sense. She did not look like she was happy in Coccham. Not like someone who wanted to do what they were doing. So, was that her last resort? Was she only here because there was no place for her anywhere else?

“And you?” her voice brought him back to the table and the alehouse and the dark sky. “Who were you?” she asked as she drank the last of the ale.

And he wished there was more. Suddenly, he was filled with the familiar bitter taste of anger and helplessness.

He did not know why he was telling her. He did not know if he trusted her. He did not know why he was thinking about something long gone. Something that was of a previous life. Something he no longer had the right or the drive to think about.

Sometimes, he’d like to tell himself that he forgot that life altogether. As much as someone can forget something like that. But other times, he’d think about it and his head would spin and his stomach would turn and rage would fill him. It did not have to go that way. He knew that he could have stopped it from happening if he only knew beforehand. But no sooner had he known, he was thrown into a life that he knew nothing about how to survive. He should have died in the first storm they faced. It would have been mercy. But fate has decided that he was to endure. And he’d think about the people that did this to him at first. He’d swear vengeance and he’d pray for freedom if only to seek them out and take back what was his.

But it died soon after. There was no point. Even when he was stupid enough to daydream about freedom, he’d not think about his family or Ireland or anyone from his previous life. He’d only think of peace and quiet. Of never being cold and never sleeping hungry. Of being able to speak freely and to be spoken to. Of standing on solid ground and seeing the stretching horizon. They did not matter. What they did to him did not matter. Home was not home anymore.

“I was to be king.”

She gave a small snort, and he was not offended. It was funny, he had to admit. In a not so funny sort of way.

“And where’s your crown?”

“Broken.” he said. Like so many other things about him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback is appreciated. and suggestions are more than welcome!  
> This chapter made me sad.


	10. Chapter Ten

Some would say he was being stupid. That he needed his head checked. But it was not like that to him. Because those who would say that would say it because it would seem to them that he valued his task more than his life. But that’s just the thing. One of them was dependent on the other, and in this particular situation, it was the other way around. His life was forfeit if he did not perform his task. It was his purpose after all. So, no. they’re the ones who did not understand. And he can’t blame them. They were not him. He knew he would have never put those two things on opposite sides and scaled them like that if he had not gone through what his life was morphed into. He would say it was smart. Practical. Rational. Perform the task, keep your life. The only balance that mattered.

So, as anxious as it made him feel, he seeked Stiorra. He only met her the once, when she found him. And he can honestly say that he remembered her dagger more than he remembered her. Which is why he was seeking her in the first place. He can’t just go to the blacksmith with his strange request. He doesn’t believe he can go to him with any request, but that’s not the point. He needs her. For Athelstan.

He tried to find her in the main yard, but she was long gone after her morning round there. She was always there each morning. Sometimes crafting something, other times sparring - mostly with Sihtric. They had an easy going kinship. Maybe it was because they were the only ones who were outwardly displaying who they were. Granted, there were other Danes in Coccham, but she was the Lord’s daughter and he was the Lord’s second. Finan watched them together more than once, and it was always an easy exchange for the both of them. Sometimes Athelstan would be there, and in those times, Finan made himself scarce. He knew that there was no need for his presence when they were there, they were more than capable of doing his job should it be needed. But he just wasn’t comfortable in their company when they were together.

Mainly because she was the one who found him. Or because she was his master’s daughter. Or that they were Danes. He was just not keen on being in their company. So, when he did not find her in the yard, he decided to venture as far as he could dare to in search for her. He had delayed it long enough and he knew that the boy’s disappointment would be nothing compared to his Lord’s ire if he was to find out that Finan was just ignoring his one and only task.

Thankfully, he did not need to go that far. She was barely outside Coccham when he found her. She was sitting atop a large rock by the river bank. A small white bone was in her hand and she was carefully engraving it’s back and murmuring something under her breath. He knew enough to know not to disturb her. He walked quietly to where she was and sat just close enough so that she would know he was there, but not close enough to disturb whatever she was doing.

She glanced at him from the corner of her eyes, gave a curt nod, and continued with whatever she was doing. He was compelled to watch her. She looked so peaceful and focused, and he knew that she was most likely praying to her Gods. He had seen Danes praying to their Gods before, but never like this. It was always loud and bloody and a prelude to a battle cry. Not the peaceful serenity she was engulfed in. He only knew to hate them. To hate what they represented. What he had seen of them. But this was something new. Something opposite.

She was done fairly quickly. She cleaned the small bone, and with its sharp tip, poked her own thumb and let the blood pool for a short while before she pressed the pad of her thumb to the engraving. It filled the rune, and some bled out into the grooves of the bone itself, before she cupped it in her hands, whispered something into her palms and then threw it in the water.

They both watched the water ripple until all signs of what she had done were gone before she finally acknowledged him.

“Finan, right?” She asked him without looking away from the water.

“Yes, Lady.”

“Not a lady.”

He did not know what to say to that, so he stayed quiet.

“You needed something?” She turned to look at him.

“I need help with something. And- and I thought you would be able to help me, if it’s not too much trouble.”

She looked at him with a tilted head, and she looked so much like her father. With her calculating gaze and her stance.

“And what may that be?” She sounded guarded, which she had no need to be.

“Your dagger.”

“What dagger?”

His eyes fell to the dagger, sitting at her belt in a leather sheath. It looked ornate. He did not remember it looking like this when he last saw it , but then again, he only remembered its gleaming tip and its sharp cut.

“When you found me. When you brought me to Lord Uhtred.”

Her hand fell to it and she grasped the pommel tightly.

“What of it?” she asked warily. She still did not let go of it.

He raised both hands slowly, if only to ease her worries. He just realised how stupid it was, to seek her out outside of Coccham, when there was no one around. She must think he was there to harm her. Why else would he speak of their only interaction where she held a weapon to his throat.

“For Athelstan!” he tried to deescalate the situation.

“What?” her trapidition was overrun by confusion.

“I was wondering if you might help me.”

“Speak plainly, what do you want?” She huffed and folded her arms.

“Sihtric had the blacksmith make weapons for Athelstan, but I fear he is too young to hold them properly. Or to learn for that matter, but it’s not my place. All I want is for him to have a real chance of protecting himself. And a seax would only hinder him as well. Too wide and heavy still.”

“You want to give him a dagger like mine?” She concluded and there was a mischievous glint in her eyes.

“I was wondering if you would commission the blacksmith for one. I don’t have silver, but I will owe you.”

“You will owe me?” and much like Eadith, she was too quick to mock the prospect. 

Well, there was no turning back now.

“It’s either that, or the boy dies because his sword is too heavy and then I’m killed because I’ve failed.” He did not know why he was telling her this. Why he was voicing his fears like that. But he did not feel like she would use it to harm him.

Her laugh was not what he expected. It was boisterous and wild.

“You won’t owe me. You have nothing to fear. I understand what you’re saying. You make a fine point about the dagger.” she laughed at her own joke, and he was just bewildered. She was free spirited. Nothing like him or Eadith or even Athelstan.

“You don’t have to worry.” she said as she gathered her things and made to leave. “I’ll deliver it myself when it’s done. I’ll even give you a few pointers.” she laughed again and left. He was standing alone on the riverbank, not really sure what had just happened.

  
===

He was with the boy in the yard. They were setting up some wooden posts. Finan had gathered enough straw and a few sacks. Enough for training with the staffs at least. They were in the process of wrapping them when the boy looked somewhere behind Finan with a large smile. He waved his hands and Finan turned around to see who was there.

He had his hands wrapped around the post, tying the ropes on the other side when he turned his head. It was Lord Uhtred, with Sihtric standing right behind him. He stood straighter and the fabric fell from around the post, and loose straw littered the ground around him.

“Lord.” he said as he lowered his head.

Athelstan, who was still behind him, moved around Finan and his instincts got the best of him. He foolishly tried to prevent the boy from going to them and greeting them, as if the boy was his. As if protecting him entailed what protecting himself would. Stupid. Charge or hostage, his situation was still better than Finan’s. He was safe with those men. Those men were responsible for him. Thankfully, the boy was quick and Finan did not stop him before he realised what he was doing. He hoped they did not notice his slip up.

He walked excitedly towards the younger Dane and exclaimed “look what we’re making!”

Sihtric looked silently towards Lord Uhtred, who gave a small nod. Sihtric took Athelstan and walked towards the small posts, asking him about what they were doing and the boy answered with excitement.

It was just the Lord and Finan now. And Finan knew he was not at fault here. He seeked him out. He can’t fault him for something he did not do.

“I should leave, Lord.” He gave another small bow and made to leave before Lord Uhtred stopped him.

“No, wait.” Once Finan turned again and was in front of him, he continued. “It’s you I came to see.”

Finan tried to think hard about the wrongs he may have done. They told him he was free to enter the kitchen and eat whenever he was hungry. He did not go anywhere other than the yard and the room they gave him. He did not drink ale, unless Eadith offered. He did not take anything from anyone. Nothing happened to the boy either. So what was it?

Was it about Stiorra?

“Lord, I did not harm her.” He said urgently. If he thought he had done something to his only daughter, then this was his only chance to prove otherwise. He may be punished regardless, but he had to try. “I only asked her help and she agreed. I would never harm your daughter.” he tried to say it as quickly as he could.

“I’d worry about her hurting you, not the other way around.” he said, and Finan was too busy calming himself to think about what he meant.

“She told me you two spoke, but she did not say about what. Nor will I ask.” he said and Finan only nodded and stood straight, waiting for the real reason Lord Uhtred was there.

They both stood there in silence, Lord Uhtred appraising him and Finan too busy trying to control his breath.

“You’re starting to fill out more” he finally settled on.

“A steady supply of food would do that, Lord. For which I am thankful. And I try to train, Lord. As much as I can, which is helping.” He tried to be as honest as he could, but he didn't want him to think he was ungrateful. Or that he was stealing anything.

“Good.” he replied. “I came to give you something.” He gestured to where Sihtric had dropped what he was carrying when Athelstan took him.

Finan took what turned out to be a leather cuirass. It lacked the fur that distinguished the Danes’. It was brown, with a large buckle in the middle that was surely worth more than Finan had ever owned as a slave. And it looked to be in pristine condition, so obviously, it was not for him to clean or polish. He looked to Lord Uhtred once more for clarification.

“It’s yours.”

“But I already have an armour.” all too quickly, he realised what it must sound like. “Apologies, Lord! I did not mean--, It’s-- you already gave me an armour.” he tried to rectify his situation “For which I am grateful”

“It was temporary, you were in no shape for an armor at the time, and your arm did not make things easier.”

Finan found himself rubbing his arm absentmindedly. It still ached from deep in his bones sometimes, but it was fine.

“This is yours now.” Lord Uhtred said, with an air of finality.

“Thank you, Lord.” he said as he held the leather cuirass tighter. A piece of himself, back. The warrior. His knuckles turned white from his strong grip, but neither commented on it.

“And this is for you as well.” Lord Uhtred said as he handed Finan a small light pouch. “Your stipend.”

“Lord?”

“Sihtric” Lord Uhtred called for his second, who bid the boy a hasty farewell, and they both left without saying a word.

It was not a large sum, by any means. It won’t buy him anything substantial. But it was his. Like the leather cuirass. Like the sword.

He knew that the smart thing would be to save it. It had been so long since he last had something to call his own. But he was elated, if a bit wary. He was still anxious from the meeting. He had been trying to avoid Lord Uhtred for so long, that just seeing him there was not easy on him. His anxiety lingered and he decided what he would do first with the stipend fairly easily.

He walked steadily to the inn that night, gathered all the courage he could to order the night’s jug of ale, and walked to the usually empty table just before Eadith showed up. The small pouch felt heavy in his pocket and he never smiled brighter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know why, but when I'm having a hard time - in RL- , this is what happens. Those chapters are different but  
> I just can't figure out exactly how.
> 
> As always, feedback is appreciated.


	11. Chapter Eleven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When it rains it pours, I guess. Here's another chapter. A bit sadder and a bit longer.

They were done with the posts now. They proved useful with the wooden staffs, as Finan had hoped. It helped the boy familiarize himself with his own limits, if nothing else. It was still a bad fit, but the dagger was not done yet. Finan trusted Stiorra to bring it once it was done. He did not approach her again for it. And if she hadn’t, then he’d just have to deal with it. He did his part, nothing else he could do.

They decided to take a small break and roam around a bit. It was market day. Finan and Athelstan were both walking around the marketplace, seeing all the different traders and their goods. Finan thought back on how he was once waiting for a day like this to be sent back, and shook his head to clear it. It did not matter now. He was here and he had a purpose.

He knew that he could buy something for himself. The pouch he was given was still heavy in his pocket, as small as it was. But he could not bring himself to do it. Even if he liked something with a reasonable price. Just the thought of wanting something, and thinking about having it, made him feel like he was stealing. He was so unused to the prospect itself. The first and only thing he used his stipend for was the jug of ale he shared with Eadith. And he was only able to do it because he would not take it all to himself, so it did not feel like stealing.

They were halfway through their round when they heard the horn’s blow coming from the ramparts. Finan easily pushed Athelstan behind him when he saw that the gates were being opened. He did not know who it was, but it wouldn’t hurt to be careful.

A small procession entered. A strange procession, by all means. A man on horseback led the line. Not that old, but you can see his life etched on his face. He was followed by a woman, who greeted the surrounding crowd with a smile. They all seemed to be welcoming her in particular, but some were patting the old man’s horse as he passed them in greeting. And he was loud as he greeted them. “Aaah, nothing washes the stuffy air of Winchester like being back here, won’t you agree, Hild?” he looked back and addressed the woman. They were both in the process of coming down from their horses. Stable boys were gathering, taking the horses’ reign and their saddlebags.

Hild was greeting the stable boy as she handed him her things. “Well, you say that now. Wait until we find out the latest problem in Coccham. I’ve been away for too long, I’ll feel well once I’m sure everything and everyone is fine.” she said with a long-suffering sigh.

The last member of the group was a young man. He was quiet. So far, there was nothing strange about them. Except their appearance.

They were Christian. The three of them. Men and woman of the cloth. They all wore their crosses, but the man looked too haggard to be a priest. And the woman had a cross around her neck and a Dane Seax at her belt. The pommel was prominently of Danish design. And the boy was the same. He had an axe on his belt. Not the weapon of choice of Saxons, that’s for sure.

And all of that did not add up to their warm welcome. By the lord’s men, by the guards, and even the villagers. Again, the woman was greeted with more warmth than the others.

Athelstan seemed excited when he saw them. And they saw him too. Hild said something to her companions and took a parcel from her saddlebag before approaching were they were. She had a warm smile and a kind face.

“Athelstan!” she greeted as she neared them and Athelstan only moved from behind Finan to stand next to him. “I have something for you.”

She handed him the wrapped parcel, and Athelstan took it silently.

“From winchester.” she added and he nodded silently as he looked at it, still wrapped in cloth.

She smiled again and ruffled his hair and he gave her a tiny smile in return. It was obvious he knew her, but Finan was still trapeditious.

She looked around and when she did not find what she was looking for she asked aloud “Where’s Eadith?” her eyes fell on Finan.

Just as soon as she said this, footsteps approached. Lord Uhtred and Sihtric were coming from the longhouse, and Hild’s companions were approaching from the other side. And not for the first time, Finan felt trapped. He just stood where he was, hoping for the exchange to be fairly quick so that he may go on with his day.

“Father Pyrlig!” Lord Uhtred greeted cheerfully. “How are you, old man?”

“I’m telling you, it’s winchester that’s making me old! I keep saying this is when I stay for good, but you know how it is.” he greeted him back.

Sihtric approached Hild with a smile of his own, and he looked younger than ever.

“Abbess!” he wrapped his arms around her and she patted his back affectionately. They both looked happy to see each other. “Welcome home.” he said to her when they parted.

“It’s good to be back, Sihtric.”

“Hild.” came Lord Uhtred’s voice. And it was soft. Their embrace was warmer. Calmer. “Welcome home.”

“I’ve missed it here.” she said with a bright smile as they parted. Her hand lingered on his shoulder as they both turned to the latest newcomer.

He walked surely towards the Lord and was greeted with a one armed hug and a tap on the shoulder. He rolled his eyes and tapped the lord on his shoulders. “Father.” he greeted and Finan was now very lost.

They were Christian. Was this the boy the one he heard was kidnapped from a monastery? But that would not explain why he was calling him father. And the warm welcome was not what Finan expected the group’s greeting to be.

“I hope he did not give you much trouble on your travels, Father Pyrlig” Uhtred said.

“If only you were more like him, Uhtred. Believe me, it would have been easier on all involved.”

They were teasing him! And he welcomed it with a smile as they all left. They carried their conversation but Finan was still standing with the boy, who was looking at his gift.

None of them gave him any mind. Good. it was something he prided himself in, even if he was trapped there. You don’t survive the amount of masters he has without learning a thing or two about survival. And that was among the first things he learned. How to blend in with his surroundings. How to not attract attention.

He watched them leave for a moment, before he nudged Athelstan and they silently headed back to the back yard. Finan felt like he was being watched. He turned around once more, and the Abbess, Hild, was looking at him with a puzzled expression. She was standing near the doorway to the longhouse and she was looking at him with a tilted head and furrowed brows while her companions moved into the Lord’s hall.

He turned again and rounded the longhouse to where the boy was already sitting on the ground. He was unwrapping his parcel, and Finan could see what it was.

Two books and a letter were wrapped neatly in the cloth. The letter was sealed without an insignia. Someone wanted to be sure that the parcel could not be traced. The books caught Finan’s attention. And the books were plain as well.

The boy silently put the books down and opened the letter. Finan did not ask about them, but he was curious.

He watched the boy silently and tried to calm himself. This was the second time he found himself in close proximity to the Lord. And neither was of his own volition. Maybe the order to stay out of his sight did not stand? It wouldn’t change much anyway. If it were up to Finan, he’d avoid the Lord completely. It was not worth the anxiety that was harder and harder to get rid of after every time he had an interaction with him. It still felt like disobeying an order.

==

It was a little over a day later when Sihtric was the first to greet Finan. It was early in the morning and as soon as Finan was out and about, Sihtric called for him.

“Your presence is requested.”

He stopped in his tracks. Where? Why? Has something happened?

He gathered his wits quickly, steeled himself, and turned towards the main entrance of the longhouse.

“Not there.” Sihtric said as soon as Finan was heading there. “The Chapel.”

Finan stopped once more.

“Chapel?”

“Well, as close as it gets to it in Coccham.” Sihtric replied and Finan did not ask.

Finan stared silently at Sihtric, not knowing if he should say somethin or not. Sihtric only pointed to another small building across the yard that Finan saw before but never gave much thought to. It was a small building, with a small fence and a small garden. The garden is what always pulled Finan’s attention. Unlike the small hut like building, the garden was well tended to. Obviously cared for.

And for the first time, Finan noticed what was atop it. Two wooden twigs were tied to each other in a poor attempt to make a cross. It did not look offending. It looked endearing. Finan stared at it for what must have been more than a moment or two, when Sihtric added “Abbess Hild is waiting for you. Eadith will be with Athelstan.” and went on his way.

He knew that she took notice of him. She must know what he is if Sihtric was the one she sent for him. They must have told her. So what might she want from him? Her presence there in the first place was strange. Everything since their arrival was strange. He walked slowly towards the entrance when someone exited it briskly. It was the young man who was with them when they arrived. The one who called Lord Uhtred ‘Father’.

He looked to be angry. He glared at Finan when he almost bumped into him, shook his head with anger while muttering something under his breath, and then went on his way. There was nothing Finan could do about that. He knew tht he did not do anything to offend him, and if his presence is what offended him, there was nothing he could do about that.

As soon as Finan was through the small doorway, he took a deep breath he did not know he needed. Like it was the first time in a long time he breathed as deeply and as freely. The whole thing was makeshift. Small benches were on either side of the aisle, and the makeshift altar looked well cared for. Finan understood what Sihtric said about the place. It can be a chapel if you want it to be.

But Finan felt out of place. Was he even welcome back here? It has been so long. He has given up on prayers a long time ago. Everything else has given up on him. Even though the place was small, Finan felt smaller the longer he stood there. He couldn’t stay there. He turned and headed for the doorway and left. He stopped once he was outside and stood where he was. Trying to calm his breath.

==

He did not know how long he stayed there, but he couldn’t bring himself to move. She found him soon enough. Abbess Hild.

She looked calm. Kind. Welcoming. Things he did not expect to meet at Coccham.

“There you are!” she said, and for some reason, her voice did not startle him. He did not jump or flinch at her greeting. And he did not feel like it was a reprimand. After all, it should be. He kept her waiting when she specifically asked for him.

“I apologise. I-” he tried to find an excuse, but there was none.

“It’s fine. You’re Finan, right?” she said as she walked towards the garden and he followed her dutifully.

“Yes, Abbess.”

“Well, I wasn’t here upon your arrival, so it’s a bit late, I know. But I wanted to welcome you to Coccham.” she said and he could tell that she was sincere. She was not playing at anything.

“Thank you Abbess.”

“I spoke with Uhtred. He told me what you did for Athelstan.” she said and Finan nodded silently. “You have everyone’s gratitude.”

Again, Finan did not know what to say. He nodded silently and hoped she wouldn’t ask him anything. Like he told Sihtric before, it was his fault in the first place. Had he not done what he did, he’d have been the one who harmed the boy. And everyone seemed to care about the boy’s wellbeing. Stiorra was certainly on edge when she thought it was compromised. And Eadith was perturbed by the prospect itself, if the conversation he heard was any indication.

The Abbess looked at him silently, and for some reason, Finan felt like she was seeing right through him. Like she knew who he was, what he had been through and how it had changed him. He looked away if only to get rid of that feeling. It was unsettling.

“I have something for you.” she broke the silence when it stretched for too long.

He looked back to her and she was holding her hand out. A small wooden cross on a leather cord was sitting in her palm. For him. It has been years since he lost his cross. Years since he wore one. Years since he clutched one in his grasp and prayed. He never dared ask for one when he lost his. His masters would have laughed at him and punished him for it.

Would his current master do the same if he took it? Was he allowed to take it from her without asking for permission? He decided then and there that he did not care. He wanted it. And it was being offered to him. He hoped that he would not have to give something in return for it. He was tired.

He looked at her and she only nodded her encouragement. He took a deep breath and slowly reached for it. He was waiting for her to change her mind, but she didn’t. He took it and it was hidden in his clutched grasp too quickly.

“Do you pray still?”

“Not for a long while.” he replied truthfully. Maybe admitting it was the first step to redemption? Because he stopped praying when he no longer had hope. What would be the point?

“I will head inside and I will pray.” she said and she waited for him to nod his understanding before she continued. “You are welcome to join me whenever you want.” she was patient when he nodded again.

He only stayed a short while after she left. His hand was still clasped around the cross. He took a deep breath and wore the cross around his neck. Out of habit, he tucked it inside his shirt. He still did not feel safe displaying it. Even in the presence of a priest and an Abbess in Coccham.

He headed inside, and again, he felt calm wash over him. Abbess Hild was on her knees near the front of the aisle. She was praying silently and Finan walked steadily to where she was. He lowered himself to his knees next to her, clasped his hands in front of him and tried to calm his mind.

It has been so long since the last time he prayed, that he did not know what to do. There was no clear thought he could follow. He tried desperately to calm his mind, but he was overwhelmed. He just sat there silently, next to the Abbess, mirroring her, and silent tears were washing away his desperation. But they were not sad tears. Maybe he did not have to pray, but this was the closest thing to it he was capable of now. He let the feelings wash over him. He did not feel ashamed to be seen like that. Not here. Not in a chapel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think.


	12. Chapter Twelve

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ummm.

They were still there. He knew already that the Abbess was there to stay, but the old priest was still there. He could see him from afar, occasionally discussing all sorts of things with Lord Uhtred. And sometimes he’d see him alone with the Lord’s men. Finan did now know what to make of that, but they all treated him with respect and familiarity. Even Sihtric.

Finan took to wearing the cross the Abbess gave him around his neck all the time. But the priest’s presence, and the Lord’s son, along with the small chapel and the resident Abbess, all gave him a sense of reassurance. Even though the cross was hidden beneath his shirt and armor, sometimes, without really thinking about it, he’d find himself biting on it like a little child. He’d take it without really noticing, and bite the corner of it holding the cross in his mouth. He found that he did that a lot, and at first, he was afraid of getting caught with it, but the more he saw of Coccham, the more he realised that there was no reason for that concern in particular. No one would berate him for who he was. No one would take offence in him being a Christian. Athelstan himself told him that he did not need to be afraid, but that itself was not reassuring. He still was not sure of Athelstan’s situation.

  
  


It was a slow day, like most days. He was particularly tired. A group was leaving for Winchester. Mainly, father Pyrlig and a messenger and a few others on the orders of lord Uhtred. He was not very keen on being present when they left, Lord Uhtred would probably be there, so he had a lazy walk by the river. The sun was setting and he was lost in thought for most of it. He lost track of the time and his whereabouts as well, and by the time he realized this, it was too late. He was far from Coccham. And he did not tell anyone where he was! Not even Sihtric knew. Athelstan was busy with father Pyrlig the whole day, saying goodbye to him and Finan suspected that there was a letter involved as well, if the amount of writing he was doing lately was any indication. Gone were the books. He was writing on unbound papers ever since the priest told them he was leaving soon.

As soon as he realized his mistake, he stopped in his tracks and tried to gather his wits enough to figure out where he was and how far he’d gone. It was very late now. Well into the night. And as much as he enjoyed the alone time, and as much as he enjoyed not being watched, he was starting to regret it.

He only walked for a short while when he heard voices in the dark. Hushed voices and rustling of leaves from far into the treeline. He crouched behind a fallen tree and prayed that it was not Coccham’s men, coming for him. Once more, he found himself clutching the cross and putting it in his mouth as he instinctively searched for his blunt weapon. It may or may not be Coccham’s men, and if it weren’t then he’d have a way to defend himself, if they proved to have ill intentions.

The voices neared. He crouched further and tried to twist himself so he could see if they ever emerged towards the river bank. And they did. His heart fell into his stomach at the sight of them. They looked slightly familiar. They were five in total, urging each other forward and trying to be as silent as possible. Now that he could see them, he could see a small boat that was hidden away, waiting for them. They boarded it silently one by one, and moved into the darkness. He did not know what to do. No one knew where he was. He was not supposed to be there in the first place. As the last one of them boarded, he saw his face clear under the moonlight. It was one of the people who decided that they offer him up to the Warlord Uhtred Ragnarson! He could recognize that face anywhere! It was a face that haunted him for months. One of his last master’s men.

He waited, struck in place by fear. These people were well into Lord Uhtred’s territory. And they did not look like they were simply passing through. Were they stupid enough to make another deal with the Danes? What would Lord Uhtred do to them if they were caught? Would Finan dare tell him about them? What would happen to him if he told the warlord of what he saw? What would happen to him if he did not tell him?

Could he go to Sihtric with this? Yes, Sihtric has always been patient. And he would be reasonable in punishing him. He was not stupid enough to think that his little walk outside of Coccham without permission will not get him punished. And he was also not stupid enough to trade the information he has with liniency. Punishment is punishment, and a mistake is a mistake, no negotiating that. But yes, Sihtric is the safest option. But he is still a Dane, a ruthless, godless warrior. So how safe is the safest option, really?

  
  


He decided that he would seek Sihtric first. So that even if he was sent to Lord Uhtred, Sihtric can do the talking. God knows he was still afraid of being in his presence. Let alone talk to him directly. His only hope was that he would still be able to spend his mornings with the boy after the punishment. A beating is always favorable to confinement. He has had enough of those in the endless sea.

He stood where he was until he made sure the little boat was far enough that no one would see him. He rounded the large log he was hiding behind, took a deep breath and turned around in the opposite direction to start heading back. Sooner or later, he would face whatever awaited him. And if he was to tell the lord about what he saw, then he had no one to blame but himself. He did not have to be there. Did not have to see what he saw. Did not have to be in this situation.

“Well well, where do you think you’re going?” he heard a voice from behind. He made to turn and something jabbed him in the back.

“Slowly, now.” the voice warned.

He still had his hand wrapped around his blunt sword. He turned slowly, and finally saw who was behind him. Another familiar face. He was probably hiding, making sure that his companions left safely before returning to the settlement.

“If it isn't Finan the Feral!” He said with far too much mirth. “We thought you’d be dead by now. That’s what we sent you to that barbarian for in the first place.” He took a step closer, holding his sword to the side now instead of having it pointed at Finan’s chest.

“What do you think I should do to you? Return you to him?” He waited for an answer that both knew would not be given. Finan himself did not know if he wanted that or nor. He may be killed for his mistake. They may think he ran away and was caught. “Or just kill you now and get it over with? It should have happened long ago!” his face was too close now. And the sword was sharp. Finan knew he had almost no chance in fighting him off. But he had to try.

Something caught the man’s attention. He moved his sharp sword so he could pick the leather cord hanging from Finan’s neck with its tip. The cross laid flat on the side of the sword. “And what is that? Didn’t think you were one for prayers and faith. Do you think you Dane Master would approve?” He said, and Finan did not like it. He was finally allowed to think of himself like that, and he was starting to come to terms with it. Who was he to take that away from him! Who was he to think that he was not allowed his own beliefs and faith!

His grip on the blunt sword was getting tighter. Any minute now, he’d find an opening and take his chance. They may have called him Finan the feral to anger him and humiliate him, but it was not entirely an insult. Long ago, before everything that led to where he was now, he was proudly named Finan the Agile. A fierce Warrior Prince. He won more battles than he lost. And he won when it counted. Finan the Agile. But that was honorable fighting. Fighting for your land and your people was one thing. Fighting for your life and your food and your survival was a whole other thing. He kept what he could keep in his fighting. But soon enough, after his capture and betrayal, Finan the Agile was gone. Finan the Feral had to break his way out from the dignified warrior’s fighting. Gone was the decorum. Finan the Feral they called him. And they pitted him against feral monsters to see which one was more keen on survival. And it stuck.

  
  


Just as soon as he made the decision to pull his sword and jump back far enough so he could get a better footing, chaos erupted. Not too far along the river, fire broke out. He could see it clearly in the dead of night. Shouts could be heard and rushing footsteps were nearing ever closer. And the flames rose higher.

The small boat was on fire, and horses surrounded them. All of a sudden, Sihtric was there, with another of the Lord’s men. The one with a large cross on his armor. And a few others he did not see clearly.

Sihtric came from behind the man and wrapped his arm around his neck swiftly while he was busy trying to swing his sword towards the other men. A warrior in battle. He had his Seax in the hand he wrapped around the other man’s neck, and his other hand was raised with the battle axe ready.

“Make one move.” he dared him. But he was smart enough to see the men who surrounded him and the flames coming from the boat and realize that it was over. He dropped his sword immediately.

Then, and only then, did Sihtric look away from the man. He looked at Finan with a fierce expression.

“you will be dealt with.”

Finan did not respond. He stood where he was. Trying to think his way out of this. He was caught. He did not get to do anything. He may have returned and told them, but now it was different. He was caught, outside Coccham, with the enemy, without telling anyone where he was. They may think him a traitor! They may kill him! Will Lord Uhtred do it himself? Or will he leave the task to Sihtric? He did not get to say anything to Athelstan. And he was only just now getting used to seeking the Chapel’s peace. And Eadith. It was his turn. He owed her a jug of ale. He still had a bit of coin left from the last stipend. He was saving a fixed part of it, and he still had some coin to spare. For his nightly conversations with Eadith.

Footsteps approached again, and it was Lord Uhtred this time. He looked every bit the warrior. Every bit the man he heard about. Every bit the man he feared. And he would be the last thing he saw.

Finan was frozen where he was. Gone was his grip on the blunt sword. He watched numbly as Lord Uhtred neared the man and Sihtric struck his legs from behind and he fell to his knees in front of lord Uhtred.

“Was I not clear?” he said in a menacing tone.

The man did not answer.

Sihtric struck the back of his head with the hilt of his seax.

“Was I not clear?” he repeated.

“You were, Lord.”

“This time, I only killed the men they sent. Next time, I will not stop there.” he said without raising his voice. “And seeing that you forgot my last warning so easily last time, i will leave you a reminder.” He said like he was reasoning with him, and turned where he was. He neared Finan, and stood in front of him. Finan did not know what to expect. Did not know what to do. He only stood where he was as Lord Uhtred bent down, took the blunt sword that fell from Finan’s grip on the ground and returned to the man on his knees. The man was shivering where he knelt. He said nothing as lord Uhtred neared him. He bent down once more, took a small log that was lying around and placed it in front of the man.

“Please, Lord.” the man finally begged. “Please, I have a family, Lord.”

“Whose land is this?” Lord Uhtred asked as he was preparing for whatever it was he was about to do.

“King Edward, Lord. the King’s land, Lord.” he said hastily.

“And who is protecting it?” he asked as calmly.

“You. Lord. Uhtred Ragnarson.” he said.

Lord uhtred took the man’s arm and placed it on the log, and he was standing between him and Finan, so he did not get to see what was happening, but the distinct crack he heard and the man’s single scream as Lord Uhtred raised the blunt sword and swung it down told him all he needed to know.

He moved again and Finan could see the man holding his broken arm with the other one. He was panting now and doubled over.

“Uhtred of Babbenberg” Lord Uhtred said as he turned around and threw the blunt sword at the man with the cross on his armor who caught it easily. He gave a single whistle and his men moved together at the same time. All heading in the same direction.

Finan felt hands grab his arm and he jumped where he was. It was Sihtric. Even though the situation was over and Lord Uhtred’s message was received - if the moans he heard from the man were of any indication- there was still tension on Sihtric’s face. He did not even look at Finan. Just lead him to where they were all going. To where he was going in the first place before everything. To his fate. To Coccham. Will he get to see the boy or Eadith one last time?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback is appreciated.


	13. Chapter Thirteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did not expect the feedback I got <3  
> I'll reply to you all, thank you so much.  
> This one's for you. a bit short, but a bit early.

The walk back to Coccham was not that different from the last time he believed he was being led to his fate. Like last time, he had Sihtric leading him. Like last time, he did not know what the outcome of the coming confrontation would be. Like last time, he did not know what awaited him upon arrival. Unlike last time, Lord Uhtred was leading all of them. Now was not the place nor the time for Lord Uhtred to deal with him. And Sihtric’s words rang in his ears over and over again.

‘You will be dealt with’

He knew for a fact that it was not a threat. It was a fact. Sihtric was a man of few words to begin with, and now was not the time for him to start wasting them on idle threats.

He will be dealt with.

Once more, he found himself face to face with Sihtric, whose face displayed his displeasure and his anger. The tension was still there.

As for Lord Uhtred, he walked ahead of the men, followed by the man who had Finan’s blunt sword. He could not hear much of the man’s words, but he could see him talking urgently with the lord who did not give any reply. Finan could only see their backs as he followed with Sihtric.

  
  


Soon enough, they reached the gates. They were opened before their procession reached and as the men entered, they all dispersed in every direction. Only the four of them remained, walking ahead straight towards the Lord’s hall in the longhouse. Lord Uhtred, accompanied by the other man, followed by Finan and Sihtric.

As they crossed the yard, Finan could see that it was mostly empty. Other than the men who were with them, only one figure was there in the yard. Eadith stood to the side, following their approach with her eyes, her face set in stone and her lips pursed. Their eyes met for a second and she only looked at him with a raised brow. He only saw her do that before he was tugged towards the entryway.

As they entered the warm Hall, with food waiting for the men’s return and the fire still crackling, Lord Uhtred headed towards the washbasin waiting for him. He splashed his face, washing away the last remnants of the raid and the fire they set to the small boat, and still, Finan waited.

Lord Uhtred ignored the men until he was done with the washbasin and the cloth, and then looked at Sihtric. He motioned with his head towards the back door and they all followed. They stood in the open area that was once Finan’s safe haven. He felt like a different man, being led to the same place. The last time he was here, he had nothing. Now he had a purpose. A piece of himself back. A place to be. And it was all about to be taken from him. Why did he have to take that walk in the first place? What did it matter that he did not want to be in the same place at the same time as Lord Uhtred?

He stood with his back towards the cart that once held him, and the chain that was still there next to the barrels. Lord Uhtred himself was walking in a large circle in the empty yard, deep in thought about something if his expression was of any indication, with his arms folded in front of him.

A predator, circling a prey. He paced around one last time and stopped a few steps away with his back to Finan and Sihtric, and the other man in front of him, the one with Finan’s weapon.

He turned and approached them on quick feet and stopped right in front of Finan.

“What was that?” he asked, angrily.

Finan was not able to find his voice, or an answer for that matter.

“What happened back there?” he asked, and his face was so close to Finan’s, he could feel his hot breath. And he could clearly see how angry he was. But about what?

“Lord, I didn’t… I lost track… I…” he stammered, if only because he did not feel like it all added up.

Lord Uhtred only sighed and looked to the side, where someone was approaching. The man with a cross on his armor. Finan did not realize how tall he was until then. He looked calm as he approached Lord Uhtred and lowered his head and started talking.

“Lord-”

Lord Uhtred only looked at him with a low growl that gave him pause as he stood where he was and did not take any more steps.

“I am just saying…” he tried once more

“Say nothing, Osferth.” Lord Uhtred warned.

Osferth only took a few steps backwards and stood to the side once more, giving Finan a regretful look.

Lord Uhtred turned his attention back to Finan.

“What do you think could have happened?” he asked, getting angrier and angrier.

“I did not realize i was-”

“I was under the impression you were in battle. That you were a warrior.” he challenged.

“I was, Lord.” he said, straightening his back, trying to prove that there could be use for him. The reason he was allowed to stay in the first place.

“Was?” he said. He did not take his eyes off Finan as he called “Osferth!” he looked at the man who only threw Finan’s blunt weapon at him and he caught it in midair. He then threw it on the ground, by Finan’s feet and took a couple steps back.

He stood a few steps back and gestured towards the weapon.

“Pick it up.” he ordered

But Finan did not. What was he supposed to do with it? It couldn’t do anything in the first place.

Lord Uhtred’s patience was very thin to begin with, and Finan took too long to respond.

The sharp voice of steel being unsheathed brought Finan’s attention back to him. He took his own sword in hand and charged towards Finan with the raised longsword.

Finan did not think about it. Did not decide that he would do anything. He suddenly found himself crouching and jumping to the side as he held his discarded weapon, dodging Lord uhtred as he jumped and landed in front of where Finan was, with his own sword hitting right where Finan was standing. It only took a second, but he rounded Finan and charged towards him again. And Finan did not think about anything other than the fact that someone was attacking him and that he had a weapon. Nevermind that he was a slave, that his weapon was blunt and ineffective, that his master was attacking him and he was not supposed to raise his weapon on him. None of it mattered.

And suddenly, they were both trapped in their little vicious dance. Lord Uhtred was not going easy on him. Charging towards him with the raised longsword and a loud yell. The steel danced in the air and Finan’s was dull. But dance it did as well. The sharp CLANG of their weapons hitting each other formed the rhythm of their little battle.

Gone was Finan the Agile. There was nothing noble about their fight. Lord Uhtred did not fight like an Ealdorman. He fought like a Dane. Charging with all his might, using everything to his advantage. Finan the Agile would have died after the first strike. But now… Now Finan gave as much as he received. No more bewildered by the events that were happening, he adapted and defended himself. And after a while, he gained his footing, and attacked his assailant with all his might. Using every blind spot and weak angle to his advantage. And charging once, twice, thrice, never giving up.

It went on for a while, and Sihtric and Osferth were getting more restless. Finan ignored them, focusing on his own survival. Lord Uhtred’s sword cut him twice, his right forearm and his thigh. But Finan barely felt it, the blood was his only indication that he was cut. And it only raised his frustration. His weapon was blunt. It can do no real damage. It was barely enough to help him defend himself. But the more he swung it, the more he trusted it. The more he familiarized himself with it. He knew he could do more damage. He waited for an opening, and soon enough, he found his chance and took it.

He angled himself and struck the lord so hard, he feared he might have broken his arm. Lord Uhtred paused at the blow and gave a loud battlecry as he charged and raised his sword and struck at Finan. The last CLANG echoed as Finan’s sword was cut in half, with the hilt remaining in his raised hand as he shielded himself with the sword.

The tip of the sword fell on the ground between them, rattling once or twice before it settled. Lord Uhtred was apparently satisfied by the outcome, as he lowered his sword and examined the bruise forming on arm from Finan’s blow.

Sihtric stood straighter as he watched both men trying to catch their breath, ready for whatever might happen.

Lord Uhtred sheathed his sword once more, like nothing had happened. Finan was kneeling on the floor, trying to catch his breath, and he only noticed that Lord Uhtred approached him when he kicked the hilt from Finans hand and grasped the front of his shirt and pulled until Finan was standing on his feet.

“Now, this is how a warrior carries himself.” he said. “Your purpose here is to protect the boy. That is your task. That is what you will do. And what I saw by the river is not a man who could even protect himself. Not a man who could teach him how to protect himself. You are a warrior. Act like one. Or I will find someone who can do the job better.” He let go of him and put both his hands on his shoulders, making sure he would pay attention to what he said next. “Your task is important. And until now, I was not sure you were capable of it. Now I know.” He concluded as he patted him on the shoulder once and left. As he neared the longhouse he only paused and said “Get him a new sword.” He took one more step before he added “A sharp one this time!” and continued on, holding his bruised arm and examining it silently.

Sihtric and Osferth were the only ones left with Finan. Finan turned around and looked at them. Osferth let out a long breath, all tension leaving his body. “I swear, he’s doing it on purpose!” he muttered to himself as he went in the same direction as Lord Uhtred.

“Come” Sihtric prompted. “Osferth will deal with your wounds. Or the Abbes, if she’s awake.” he started leaving as well.

“Wait!” Finan finally called.

Sihtric stood and looked at him with a raised eyebrow, waiting for him to continue.

“Am I…” he was too frustrated and confused. “What?”

“What, what?”

“Am I not being punished?” he asked incredulously. And he did not know why he was bringing it up!

“What for?”

“I did not tell anyone where I was. I did not report what I saw. I did not..”

“You did nothing wrong. You’re not a prisoner. Just make sure that you do your job, and no one will care about whatever you do in the meantime.” he sounded bored.

“What about the man you ambushed with me.”

“We were following him. Have been for a while. We knew they were stupid enough to do something today. And we also knew that you had nothing to do with it. Just in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“But… when you came… you said that.”

“You were reckless. Now that is what is important. What matters. Not what you were doing there or where you were.”

Osferth interrupted them as he called for them to enter the longhouse, where he had his supplies ready to tend to Finan’s wounds. And he muttered to himself the whole time he worked on them, and Sihtric stood to the side, amused.

Coccham and her people kept surprising him at every turn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback is appreciated.

**Author's Note:**

> Should I?
> 
> As always feedback is appreciated.


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